Essays, or discourses, vol. 3 (of 4)

THE DIVORCE OF HISTORY from FABLE . — SECT . I. — SECT . II. — SECT . III. — SECT . IV. — SECT . V. — SECT . VI. — SECT . VII.

I. The maxim, that a lie is always the child of something, has done great mischief in the world; because it authorizes fiction, attributing to it an illustrious birth, by supposing it to have been derived from, and nursed in the cradle of truth. Those who adopt this opinion, conjecture, that there is no error whatever which has not more or less mixture of reality in its composition, and that fable, is always built upon some solid historical fact.

II. Both reason and experience militate against this vulgar hypothesis; experience, because we every day see artful impositions, which owe their origin, solely to the malice of those who prefer them. What reason could the wife of Potipher have, for attributing an infamous attempt to the chaste Joseph? What mixture of truth was there in the premeditated accusation, which the two old lechers preferred against the innocent Susannah? but it is wasting time to repeat examples, which are daily presenting themselves to our eyes and ears.

III. If we consult reason, we shall be convinced, that he who can devise the one half of a fabulous tale, can easily invent the other half; for what more difficulty can there occur in the invention of the one, than the other part of it? or what necessity is there for his borrowing materials for a fable from a true event, who possesses a fertile mine of them in his own imagination? The logicians say, and they say right, that there are some entities of reason which have real foundations; and others, which have none. This maxim may be applied to fables; as there are many of them which are partly grounded on true facts; and many likewise, whose composition is all pure iron, in which, there is not the least mixture of either gold or silver.

IV. The idea, that a lie is always mixed with some truth from whence it was derived, is not only prevalent among the vulgar, but has also taken place in the imaginations of many learned men; who have extended the opinion to those truths and lies, which are the most different in themselves, and the most widely distant from each other; that is, to revealed truths, and the errors which are diametrically opposite to them. These pretend, that all the fables of gentilism, took their rise from events that are related in the scripture; and that these fables, are nothing else but sacred history altered and corrupted.

V. The erudition that has been expended in this endeavour, is immense; and there is no doubt, but the arduousness of the undertaking, requires great learning and reading, as it demands a knowledge of almost all the profane authors, in order to extract from their works all those circumstances, in which they shall find any allusion between the fables and the histories; and also a profound knowledge of the Oriental languages, for the purpose of deducing, either by means of the signification or etymology of the words, the resemblance between the names of the heroes and deities of the Pagans, and those of the persons of the scripture. This is a task, that has been undertaken by men who were extremely learned and able; such as Bishop Huet, Father Tournemine, Samuel Bochart, Nicholas Butler, Heinsius, Vossius, and others. But their labours turned out to be all cultivating with great industry a soil, that was capable of producing nothing but flowers; I mean, that all the toils of these great men, served only to shew their ingenuity and erudition, but not to discover the truth.

VI. I well know this sentiment of mine stands in need of much support, on account of the great numbers of literary men who are votaries to the opinion, that in the fables of the Gentiles, are involved or disguised the truths of the scripture; finding then that I can have but little hopes of aid from authority, I must appeal to reason; but I consider myself to have so good a plea at this tribunal, that I have great expectations judgment will be pronounced in my favour by all such of my readers, as are divested of prejudice or preoccupation.

VII. The first thing that seems to have weight against this system, is the great opposition between the authors themselves who are the advocates for it, with regard to their application of the cases instanced by them; for in the same fable, in which one fancies he sees traces of one part of sacred history, another imagines he perceives those of a very different one. For example, Monsieur Huet conceives, that in the fabulous story of Hercules, is involved or disguised the history of Joshua; and Nicholas Butler finds in the same fable, the adventures of Adam. Mons. Huet fancies, that Moses is described in the fable of Perseus; and Mr. Butler, in the same fable, discovers the history of Jonas. Is it not clearer than the sun at noon-day, that the adventures of Joshua and Adam, as likewise those of Moses and Jonas, which are so different in themselves, can only by the force of violent and strained allusions, be made in one fable, to be descriptive of Joshua and Adam, and in another, of Moses, and Jonas?

VIII. But the disagreement in what I am now about to mention, is much more enormous still. Mons. Huet, who, in the errors of paganism, fancies he discovers multiplied descriptions of Moses, imagines, he sees this hero painted to the life in the fable of Prometheus; and in the same fable, Father Tournemine finds depicted the crime and punishment of Lucifer. Such a striking contradiction, makes it manifest, that authors who employ themselves in such undertakings, are not guided by any firm or permanent lights which are thrown on the objects of their speculations, but by some false rays, which are furnished by their own imaginations.

IX. But this matter will be better explained, by reducing the applications which the before-cited authors have made of the history of Prometheus, to a comparative examination. And to begin with Father Tournemine; he fancies it alludes to the crime and punishment of Luzbel; because in the first place, according to the relation of Duris of Samos, Prometheus was thrown down from heaven by Jupiter, for having pretended to be betrothed to Minerva. I don’t know whether Duris of Samos, whose works are not at present in being, said any such thing; but if he did say it, it was as Natal Comite observes, a fable of his own inventing, and one that was not generally current among the Gentiles; as may be evinced, by examining the works of other profane authors; all of whom, almost universally agree, that Prometheus, having by the assistance of Minerva formed a man of clay, he by the favour of the same goddess, was enabled to ascend up to heaven, from whence he brought a portion of fire, with which he instill’d life into the statue he had formed; and that the punishment Jupiter inflicted on him for this sacrilegious theft, was chaining him to a rock of Mount Caucasus, and placing a vulture at his breast, which should continually gnaw his entrails. It is clear, this fable is not capable of any application whatever to the history of Luzbel; and much less can it be made to apply to it, if we add the remainder of the story, which is, that Hercules rescued him from the punishment, by first killing the vulture with arrows, and afterwards unchaining Prometheus; but the punishment of Luzbel is eternal, and not transitory.

X. The second application of Father Tournemine consists, in that, according to other authors, the crime of Prometheus was envying his brother Epimetheus; which may very well be made to apply to Luzbel, by supposing that in Epimetheus is represented the person of Adam; for Luzbel, when he was thrown down from heaven on account of the envy he bore to the happiness of man, excited or provoked his fall. But neither does Father Tournemine point out the authors who attribute this sin of envy to Prometheus, nor have I been able to discover one who has said any such thing; but it rather appears to me, that Epimetheus had much to envy in Prometheus, although this last had little to envy in him, because Prometheus is described as exceedingly penetrating and sensible, and Epimetheus as rude and stupid. Neither could any motive of envy arise from the marriage, which, according to some mythologists, took place between Pandora and him, because she was sent by Jupiter with the fatal box, in which was shut up or contained all sorts of calamities, and which she was to endeavour to prevail on Prometheus to open; this Jupiter, in order to be revenged on him, was desirous he should do; but Prometheus, like a wise man, withstood the intreaty; Epimetheus, on the contrary, was weak enough to entertain Pandora, and open the box, in consequence of which he filled himself with misfortunes. This transaction afforded rather motives of pity than envy; neither could Prometheus envy his brother the possession of Pandora, whom he had rejected.

XI. Father Tournemine, in his third application, says; that, according to other authors, Prometheus sinned, by suggesting to Epimetheus through Pandora, that he should open the box, which quadrates very opportunely with Luzbel’s tempting of Adam through Eve. I have never as yet met with any author who has mentioned such a suggestion; but on the contrary, have seen some, who say, that Prometheus warned Epimetheus against receiving any present which should be sent him from Jupiter.

XII. In his fourth application he observes, that according to the most general received opinion, the crime of Prometheus, was bringing the fire from heaven to earth, with which he instilled into man the passions that stimulated him to vice; and this corresponds with what Luzbel did, by inflaming with his persuasions, the keen appetite of Adam. It is certain, that the most common and generally received opinion is, that the crime of Prometheus consisted in his stealing the cœlestial fire; as it is also, that the use he purposed to make of this fire, was to animate with it the statue of clay, and not to instil into the statue the passions of man after it was animated.

XIII. In his fifth and last application, he tells us, the Poet Nicander says, that Jupiter having granted to man the blessing of eternal youth, he by the advice of Prometheus, sold it to the serpent; in which is insinuated, that Luzbel, by his temptation, was the cause of the death of Adam and all his descendants. I don’t know what Nicander, whose works I am not acquainted with but by quotation, says upon the subject; but I know, that in a matter of this sort, the fiction of a particular poet should not, nor ought it to be urged, in opposition to the common and general received opinion of the mythologists, who attribute all the misfortunes of man, to the fatal box in which they were contained, and among which, were those of diseases. To this we may add, that Mons. Huet, who quotes the same Nicander, tells the story very differently. He says, that man having received from the hands of Jupiter the gift of perpetual youth, laid it on the loins of an ass, which ass came thirsty to a fountain that was guarded by a serpent, who prevented him from drinking; but he agreed to give the serpent what he carried on his back, provided he would permit him to quench his thirst; the bargain being made, the ass obtained the water, and surrendered to the serpent perpetual youth. According to this relation, there is no sale on the part of the man, nor does there appear any persuasion on the part of Prometheus; but the whole blame is laid upon the ass.

XIV. We will now proceed to the applications of the illustrious Huet, which are made in two ways, some directly, others indirectly. I call those to be made directly, in which he proposes some immediate likeness between Moses and Prometheus; and I look upon those as indirect, in which he seeks for the likeness, by introducing some third agent or property. For example, Mons. Huet pretends, and by the assistance of certain analogies, endeavours to prove, that Prometheus and Mercury are one and the same person; and afterwards strives to demonstrate by other analogies, that Mercury and Moses are the same. This kind of proof is very frequently introduced by Mons. Huet, who, by pursuing the system of confounding all, or very nearly all the heathen deities in one, whatever similitude he finds to Moses in any one of them, he applies to identify the persons of every one of the others. But as in our progress, we mean expressly to dispute and arraign this system, we shall confine ourselves for the present, to the direct applications which are made by this author of the history of Prometheus to that of Moses.

XV. In his first application, he begins by saying, that Herodotus calls Prometheus the husband of Asia, and that others call him the son. Moses was of Asiatic extraction, and all the Israelitish people when they returned from Egypt, came back with him into Asia. (Demonstr. Evang. prop. 4. cap. 8. numb. 7.) I have used the very words of the author in this quotation, that no one should think, I was guilty of the least imposition, in stating this strained and violent application. It is really astonishing, to see a man celebrated in the Republic of Letters, apply so trifling an allusion to so serious a business. Who does not perceive, that according to this mode of reasoning, Prometheus may be made to resemble every man who was born in Asia? and with more propriety than he could be likened to Moses? for he was not born in Asia, but in Africa, and was only of Asiatic descent. Besides this, what Herodotus says of Prometheus, his being the husband of Asia, and others that he was the son, should not be understood to allude to that vast extent of country, which is reputed one of the four quarters of the world, but to the nymph Asia, who the poets feigned to have been the daughter of Thetis and the Ocean, and from whom, it is said, that prodigious tract of land derived its name.

XVI. This second application begins thus: In the opinion of some authors, Prometheus was the brother of Deucalion, of whom Apollonius speaking, says, that he was the first who erected temples to the gods. This he thinks applies to Aaron, the brother of Moses, who was the first high priest of the Israelites. But this application is more extraordinary than the other; because, in order to adopt it, the illustrious Huet falls into two gross contradictions. The first is, that a little lower down, for the sake of another application, he supposes Deucalion not to be the brother, but the son of Prometheus; and this coincides with the general opinion; at least I have never seen any other adopted by any author whatever. The second contradiction is, that in the tenth chapter he affirms, and endeavours to prove, that Deucalion and Aaron mean the same person. But how can Deucalion and Aaron be supposed to mean the same person, when the character and description of Aaron, differ so widely from that of Noah? Who could imagine, that so learned a man could fall into such an absurdity? and it would be idle to insist, that the building of temples was peculiarly annexed to the office of high priests, as many more temples have been built by legitimate princes, than by high priests.

XVII. In his third application, he observes, that Diodorus says, Prometheus reigned in a part of Egypt. Moses was the leader or prince of the Hebrews, who inhabited a portion of Egypt, that is, the land of Gessen. Besides this, Thermutis, the daughter of Pharaoh, who adopted him for her son, destined him to reign over her paternal inheritance. This application, in the first place, proceeds upon a false supposition, because Moses, was neither king or prince of the Israelites during their abode in Egypt, nor can it be said with any propriety, that he ruled over any part of Egypt; as the contrary clearly appears from scripture. The second application is a strained one, because being destined to a kingdom, and enjoying it, are things as different, as possession and expectation. And besides all this, the scripture does not say one word of the destination of Moses to the crown of Egypt. It is Josephus only who relates it, and who, with respect to a matter of such remote antiquity, it is not credible should have been able to obtain any authentic instrument wherewith to corroborate his assertion.

XVIII. In the fourth application, he says that Prometheus found himself in great distress, on account of an exorbitant inundation of the Nile, which overflowed all the lands of his dominions; and that Hercules freed him from the difficulty. In this event, Monsieur Huet figures to himself the passage of the Israelites through, and the drowning of the Egyptians in the Red Sea; but to make the allusion probable, he supposes Joshua, the military leader of the Israelites, and the constant companion of Moses and Hercules, to be one and the same person. The whole of this application goes lame. The making the Nile the Red Sea is a voluntary transformation; and this last must be supposed to have broke through a large tract of country, and to have inundated the land of Egypt; which is a circumstance that never happened. The ruin that was brought upon the Egyptians by the Red Sea, was so far from giving Moses anxiety, that it put him in safety. How then could the distresses of Prometheus, be made to apply to Moses? Joshua in no shape assisted Moses in the passage of the Red Sea? What relation then can the assistance which Hercules afforded to Prometheus bear to Joshua?

XIX. In the fifth application, he remarks, that the statues of Prometheus are carved holding a sceptre in the right hand, and that this alludes to the miraculous rod or wand of Moses. This puerile mode of straining for allusions, is terrible, and especially, when men descend to deduce them from such trifling and impertinent circumstances. At this rate, all the statues of princes with a sceptre in the right hand, are emblems of Moses; and by the same mode of reasoning, may be called so many statues of him. If Monsieur Huet was of opinion, that Prometheus was a king, why should he seek for any other symbol or figure of it, than his being carved with a sceptre in his hand, which is the proper and natural one; and is intended as an emblem of regal authority? Finally, the resemblance between a sceptre and a wand is so trifling, that we need not take the trouble of dwelling upon, or attending to other particulars, this alone being sufficient to reprobate the application.

XX. In his sixth application, he takes notice that Julius Africanus says, that the fable of Prometheus having formed a man, took its rise from his having by wise instructions, made those men penetrating and polished, who were before rustic and stupid. By giving this turn to, and viewing things in this light, we may, with more propriety, compare or identify Moses with Romulus, Numa Pompilius, Minos, Draco, Solon, Lycurgus, and the whole Areopagus.

XXI. In the seventh application, he tells us, that Prometheus held conversations with Jupiter; and that Moses held them with God. I have read in the scripture, of the conversation of Moses with God; but I never in any author, read of the conversations of Prometheus with Jupiter. But granting there were such, Jupiter is said to have conversed with many other mortals; and, according to this mode of reasoning, it should follow, that all those were so many Moseses. Truly, with respect to the frequency of conversations with Jupiter, I would bet Ganymede against Prometheus, and indeed against all others whatever.

XXII. In his eighth application, he tells us, that in a tragedy of Æschylus, Prometheus is introduced saying, that he was the inventor of divining by the inspection of the entrails of victims. Moses regulated all the forms of worship, and the rights of sacrifices practised by the Israelites. What analogy is there between these two things? Between offering victims to false deities, in order to divine by their entrails, and sacrificing to the true God, there is as great a difference, as there is between due worship and superstition. Besides, what stress should be laid upon what a poet, and a Greek one too, says in a theatrical piece? Don’t we know that fictions are essentially material to poems; and especially to those of this kind, as are likewise particular feigned incidents, whether the subject of the piece is taken from true events or common fables? The text of a tragedy, therefore, should never be quoted as authority, when the matter in question is an enquiry into truth.

XXIII. In the ninth application, he observes, that Prometheus is spoken of in a dialogue of Lucian, as one who knew future events. Moses was a prophet. The dialogues of Lucian may, without doubt, be as properly quoted in a matter of this sort, as the tragedy of Æschylus. No one is ignorant that Lucian in his dialogues, gives full scope and play to his imagination; and introduces into them, all the pleasing fictions that occur to him; and especially those, which are conducive to turning into ridicule the deities of Paganism. But I will admit, that the antients held Prometheus as a soothsayer: this being however a quality they acknowledged in an infinite number of others, either all those had a right to be called the representatives of Moses, or none of them had; although there is no more reason for identifying Prometheus with Moses on this account, than there is for comparing him with all the other prophets that are mentioned in holy writ.

XXIV. In the tenth application, he says, the fire which Prometheus brought from Heaven, may allude to the lightning mixed with hail, which Moses caused to descend from Heaven to terrify the Egyptians, to the fire with which he consumed two hundred and fifty seditious of those who rebelled at Coré, to the fire of the bush, to the celestial splendid rays on Mount Sinai, when Moses spoke with God, to the refulgent glare of the face of Moses when he came down from the mount, or the perpetual fire which God ordained should ever burn on the altar. Allusions between history and fable are very easy to be met with, if finding the word fire in each of them, is sufficient to establish the similitude, without having regard to union or conformity with respect to any other circumstance whatever. At this rate, all that we find written of water in fabulous histories, may be made applicable to all that is said of water in the scripture.

XXV. In the eleventh application, he observes, that Jupiter sent Pandora to Prometheus, to deceive him; but he, knowing the design, would not receive her. In the character of Pandora is represented that of Eve, whose history was written by Moses, although he abominated her crime. Let the reader now reflect, what relation the writer of an event bears to an actor in it.

XXVI. He says, in the twelfth application, that Jupiter, because the men had revealed to him the theft of Prometheus, granted them the boon of perpetual youth; and observes, that this alludes to the privilege which God conceded to the Israelites, that their cloaths should not wear out in the desert. Such conceits ought more properly to be termed illusions than allusions; and as the extravagance of them is self-evident, I shall not waste time in exploding them.

XXVII. In the thirteenth application, he says, that Jupiter chained Prometheus to a rock, in a cave of Mount Caucasus, and appointed a vulture to gnaw his entrails. God placed Moses in a cavern of Mount Sinai, in order to manifest his glory to him there. This confounding of Mount Caucasus with Mount Sinai, and a delinquent abhorred by Jupiter, with a just man beloved by God, is a strange mode of making applications; as is, to compleat the whole, comparing the most cruel torment of a continual gnawing of the entrails, to the greatest blessing that ever was enjoyed by a mortal.

XXVIII. In the last application, he says, Hercules relieved Prometheus from that punishment. This circumstance, Monsieur Huet is desirous of making allude to Joshua, whom he supposes to have been meant by Hercules; and also to the battle Joshua fought with the Amalakites, in the midst of which, Moses was on the top of an adjacent hill, with his hands lifted up to Heaven, and imploring success to the Israelites till such time as they obtained the victory; and he likens the delivery of Moses, whom he supposes to have been in a sort of imprisonment on the mount, to that of Prometheus. This is all a compound of incoherences and contradiction; for, in order to accommodate the application to the circumstances, he compares the confinement of Prometheus in the cavern of Mount Caucasus, to the situation of Moses in the cave of Mount Sinai, and to his situation on the Hill of Amalec. The fable of Prometheus, supposes no battle of Hercules with any nation whatever. Finally, and not to dwell upon many other objections, this application of the fable, is contradictory to the whole tenor of history; as, according to the fable, Moses the benefactor of Joshua, should be considered as the person on whom the benefit was conferred. When Moses lifted his hands to Heaven, then Joshua conquered; so that the success of Joshua depended on the action of Moses. How then can you reconcile this with the fable, where Hercules, who is the representative of Joshua, confers all the favour; and Prometheus, who is supposed to mean Moses, does no act whatever, but is a mere passive agent who receives favours.

XXIX. I believe, that with these examples, I have evinced to the reader, that the attempting to discover the truths of the scripture in the errors of gentilism, is a chimerical undertaking. The two before-quoted authors, abounded as much as any others whatever in learning and ingenuity. Notwithstanding this, they, by applying these talents with the greatest exertion possible to this undertaking, could attain nothing by their labours, but some applications that were so forced and violent, that they seemed as if they were dragged in by the hair of the head; which, together with their being partly founded on uncertain suppositions, proclaims the ill success of the endeavours of those authors. I am persuaded, that by permitting premises to be drawn from such flimsy allusions as those I have enumerated, there is no man of middling capacity, who would not be able to make any sort of fable the symbol of any sort of history, and every sort of profane tale, to resemble canonical relation, as this is what we see practised every day from the pulpits. Every preacher of but ordinary ingenuity, and moderate erudition, likens the saint of whom he is preaching, to some one or other of the scripture heroes; availing himself of versions, glosses, and comments, to multiply the allusions, in the same manner, that Monsieur Huet avails himself of the various expressions of particular authors. By using such sort of means, it is easy to find out, or pretend to find out, the vestiges of sacred history in the fables of paganism, and indeed it is every day’s practice. He must be but a heavy preacher, who, if he is desirous of doing it, can’t among the festivals of the Gentiles, find out some one or other, from the circumstances of which, may not be drawn various particulars, applicable to the solemnity which is the subject of his discourses; and, without doubt, a man of ingenuity, may be happy enough to hit upon some, that are more opportune, than those we have seen made use of by the illustrious Huet; but we should not from hence conclude, nor do the preachers themselves draw any such inference, that God, at the time he permitted these things to be done, and was offended with those superstitious practices, intended by some occult Providence, that they should be types of Christian solemnities.

XXX. The illustrious Huet, is not more happy in the other parts of his undertaking, than in those we have given the examples of; but to go thro’ them all, would be very tedious, as the scope of his plan, comprehends nearly the whole group of the fabulous gods and heroes, who he pretends, were all descriptive of, and meant one and the same person, which was Moses. I have said gods and heroes, because he reserved the goddesses and the heroines, to be the representatives of Moses’s wife Zephora, and his sister Maria. A magnificient system this truly, if it can be supported; but its own magnitude exposes its weakness, and it fares with it as it does with great buildings, which the bigger they are, if they are built upon slender foundations, the sooner they fall to the ground.

XXXI. It not being practicable then, to combat the assertions of Monsieur Huet one by one, and in detail, I shall attack the main body and substance of his system, which I flatter myself I shall do with such solid arguments, as will go near to divest it of every appearance of probability.

XXXII. To this end, I shall begin with supposing, that idolatry commenced long before Moses was born, and that it was pretty generally extended in the world, before he could possibly have been the object of it: this is evident from many parts of holy writ. In the book of Joshua, chapter the 24th, it is expressly affirmed, that Terah the father, and Nachor the brother of Abraham, were idolaters; and these were antecedent to Moses more than four generations. The idols of Laban also, which the scripture takes notice of in the 31st chapter of Genesis, were greatly prior to Moses; and the idol Moloch, was worshiped by some nations a long time before the days of Moses, as we learn from the 18th chapter of Leviticus.

XXXIII. Idolatry likewise, while Moses was living, was very frequent and common. It is evident that it prevailed in Egypt at that period; because Moses, when he was speaking to Pharaoh, called the true God the God of the Hebrews; from whence it may be inferred, that Pharaoh and the Egyptians did not know him for such. He likewise told him, that there was no God like his God. It is probable that the golden calf which the Israelites worshiped in the desert, was an imitation of the ox, which, under the name of Apis, was worshiped by the Egyptians, and from thence, they most probably derived the superstition.

XXXIV. That idolatry at that time had also extended itself into many other nations, is an established fact. Moloch was worshiped by the Ammonites. The Moabites were idolaters; and the women of that region perverted the Israelites, and drew them to the worship of their false gods; as appears by the 25th chapter of Numbers; and the 7th chapter of Deuteronomy, makes mention of seven other idolatrous nations.

XXXV. This is what clearly appears from scripture; and there are well-founded probabilities, that not only in the nations beforementioned, but even in all others, (although the scripture, on account of their history not being connected with that of the Israelites, does not mention them) idolatry in the days of Moses, was radically established: first, because the expressions the God of the Hebrews, and the God of Israel, which so frequently occur in the scripture, indicate, that the Israelites were the only people, who knew and worshiped the true God: secondly, because it does not seem likely, that if in those days there had been any other people who were faithful to their maker, that the Divine Providence would not have contrived some means, to have had their memories handed down to us, either by the pen of Moses, or that of some other canonical writer; and also, some account of such men who had flourished among them, as were eminent for their virtue; thirdly, because, if in the nations who bordered on the Israelites, who saw their worship, and were witnesses of the wonders God wrought in their favour, the light of the true religion did not shine forth, how is it credible that it should have prevailed in the distant ones?

XXXVI. Supposing then, that idolatry in the days of Moses, prevailed in all, or the greatest part of the nations in the world, this supposition gives great force to my argument against the system of the illustrious Huet; for it is totally incredible, that all the idolatrous nations, as if they did it by common consent, should at once forsake their antient errors, for the purpose of forming another new system of false religion, the object of which, was the adoration of Moses: the conclusion then, that all the idols of the Gentiles were designed to represent Moses, is a false one. I shall adduce in support of this assertion, the following arguments: this change of worship, if it had ever taken place, would without doubt, have begun with the nations next adjoining to the Israelites, because these were the first who must have known of, or experienced the wonders that were wrought by Moses, and from these nations, together with the information of the wonders, the new idolatry must have passed to the distant ones; but I say it is incredible, that this change should ever have taken place in the neighbouring nations; because these, together with their knowing of the wonders that were wrought by Moses, must have also been acquainted with the principles of the religion of the Hebrews; and must have known likewise, that the Hebrews did not worship Moses as a deity; but that both Moses and they worshiped an invisible God, in whose name, and by whose supreme power, the prodigies were performed; and that, in the execution of them, Moses acted as a mere instrument: it follows then, that in case these wonders had made such an impression on their minds as to induce them to change their religion, they would unquestionably have embraced that professed by Moses and the Hebrews; and not have adopted for a deity, a man who they knew was a mere instrument in the hands of the true God.

XXXVII. We will illustrate the force of this argument in the instance of the Egyptians. They saw the wondrous things that were executed by Moses; did this incline them to acknowledge him for a deity, and to worship him as such? Clearly no, for they were told by Moses himself and the rest of the Hebrews, that these wonders were wrought under the conduct and authority, and by the order of one great God, whom Moses and all his followers worshiped, and whom they called the God of all Mankind; and at times, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who were the predecessors of Moses: in case then, that, excited by these portentous things, they should have been disposed to change their religion, they would certainly have embraced that of the Hebrews, and have worshiped the true God; and not Moses, who was his minister and instrument, and whom they saw, that even those who considered him as their leader and protector, did not recognize as a deity.

XXXVIII. Admitting then that it is not probable the nations adjoining to the Hebrews, should adopt Moses for the object of their worship, it is by no means likely the distant ones should do it, because the information leading to produce such an event, must have been communicated from the first to the last; and of course, if in consequence of the accounts they received of the wonders that were performed by Moses, and the means by which he wrought them, they should have been induced to change their religion, it would not have been to worship Moses, but the God of Moses, for that is the resolution the intelligence they had received, would have induced them to take.

XXXIX. To this argument, which in my judgment is invincible, I shall add another, which seems to me to have equal weight, which is, that in not one of all the idolatrous nations of the world, has the name of Moses been preserved, as a person who was worshiped as a deity; it is not likely then, that any of them ever venerated him as such. This opinion can’t be controverted, because there is no mention of the religion of any people whatever, either to be found in books or carved on marble, in which the name of Moses, with the signification of a deity, is to be traced or met with. The conclusion to be deduced from hence with moral certainty, is, that if all the nations at any period of time, had concurred in worshiping Moses, it is next to an impossibility, that some one or other of them should not have preserved the remembrance of his name. How is it credible, that among all the nations of the world, who consisted of such vast numbers of people, and who were all unanimous in paying adoration to Moses, as Mons. Huet pretends, his name should be quite done away, without a single exception of its being preserved in any of them? Mankind in general, have been observed to be very steady in preserving the names of their deities; nor can it be otherwise, because they are always fresh in the memories, and at the tongue’s end of all the individuals of every nation. Thus we see, that from the days of Hesiod and Homer, till the extinction of paganism, a space of time, which, according to the antiquity that is given to Homer by the Arundel marbles, amounted to twelve centuries, the same identical names of their false deities continued to be preserved among the Greeks, such as Jupiter, Juno, Diana, &c. It is then absolutely exceeding the bounds of all probability, to suppose, that in some one or more of the idolatrous nations, or even in the greatest part of them, the name of Moses should not have been preserved, provided he had ever been the divinity they all adored.

XL. We may conclude then that the system of the illustrious Huet is totally improbable; and that the connexion and resemblance which he fancied to have discerned between the errors of gentilism and scripture truths, existed no where but in his own imagination.

XLI. The last argument we have urged against Monsieur Huet, militates with equal force against all other authors, who have in different ways engaged in the same undertaking, as against him; it being certain, that in none of the fables of paganism, can there be found any of the scripture proper names; and although some have pretended to meet here and there one, besides the visible distinction there is between the words, we may with very little reflection, perceive the signification of them is quite different: for example, the word Evoe, repeated in the Festivals of Bacchus, is pretended by Mr. Butler, to have been used in remembrance of our first mother Eve: but the commentators upon Plautus, Virgil, and Ovid, consider this word when it occurs in the works of those poets, as an interjection, which is expressive of nothing more, than the affection or esteem of him who pronounces it. The Latin and Greek dictionaries agree in this definition, and give it the following signification: Bene sit illi.

XLII. I confess, that in here and there a fable, we may meet with an opportune application or allusion to historical truth; but this in no wise proves, that the history gave rise to the fable. Accident of itself, is capable of producing these coinciding circumstances. Because something happens to a man to-day, which he dreamed of the night before, no prudent person would infer from thence that there was any connection between the dream and the event. Among the variety of images which the fancy forms in dreams, it is next to impossible, that a part of them should not coincide with some realities; and we may say the same of voluntary fictions. It would be a striking wonder, if among the multitude of extravagances and errors common to the Gentiles, some one or other of them should not bear a lively analogy to here and there a revealed truth.

XLIII. It is true, that although this coincidence may be purely casual, it is possible, that it may also be relative, or have some connexion. I mean that it is possible, here and there a portion of sacred history, either as the malice or ignorance of men took away from, or added circumstances to it, might have degenerated by little and little from its purity, and might ultimately have been involved or obscured in some of the heathen fables. It is probable, that in the first book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, is contained disguised or disfigured, part of what Moses wrote in the first chapters of Genesis respecting the creation, the criminal outrages committed by those the scripture calls Giants, the universal corruption of mankind, and the deluge. But the supposing, that here and there a fable may have been derived from holy writ, is not the same, as deducing from thence the derivation of a general system, which applies to all the errors of paganism; and even with respect to those few fables which bear a similitude to the scripture, we should suppose the derivation as probable, and not as certain, for the reason we have already hinted, which is, that the likeness of the error to truth may have been casual.

XLIV. By adopting this conduct, and pursuing this prudent middle way, we should avoid deriving all the fables from sacred history, and not incline to the particular system of Senior Branchini, a learned modern Italian, who attempted deducing them all from profane story. This author is of opinion, that all the relations of heroes and deities contained in the antient monuments, which were calculated to transmit to posterity the memories of such men, as in the early times had particularly distinguished themselves, and had become eminent by various ways; I say Senior Branchini conjectures, that these testimonies of the actions of those men, having fallen into the hands of poets, flatterers, their passionate admirers, or their own immediate descendants; the first in consequence of their profession, the second excited by their interest, the third by their affection, and the last by their vanity, ornamented them with many fabulous circumstances; and from this complication of lies and truth, was derived all the theology of paganism.

XLV. There is no doubt, but it has been very common for men to deify one another, from all, or each of those four motives. The poets did it above two thousand five hundred years ago, and have not yet got the better of the bad habit; for there is not a fine woman at this day, whom their pens don’t elevate to the rank of a goddess. The flatterers made deities of those, who, on account of their vices, were unworthy to be called men, as is evident from the apotheosis of the Roman emperors; and the vanity of descendants, deified their illustrious ancestors, by attributing a divine origin to the founders of many empires and republics. The Romans, not content with feigning the god Mars to have been the father of their first prince Romulus, raised Romulus himself to the rank of a divinity, and made him their tutelar deity.

XLVI. From the passion of love, was derived the most ancient propensity to deify mortals; for the book of Ecclesiastes, chap. 14, points this out as the first principle or source, from whence this species of idolatry sprang. A father extremely afflicted for the loss of his son, snatched away in the flower of his youth, to express his great tenderness and affection for him, causes his statue to be carved; and this tenderness and affection, being afterwards extended to the utmost limits of human feeling, disturbs his understanding, and causes him so far to forget himself, as to make the image the object of his adoration. His authority and example, extends the superstition to his domestics; from them it is communicated to all the inhabitants of a town, and from the inhabitants of that town to those of a whole region. There was seen many ages after this delirium commenced, an intention of repeating it, from the influence of the same passion, by one of the greatest men of antiquity. Cicero, that very Cicero, who at one time was the oracle of the Romans, and afterwards the admiration of succeeding ages, so far lost himself upon the death of his most beloved daughter Tullia, as to persist for a long while, in a determination of erecting altars to her as a deity. He also transmitted to posterity in his writings, testimonies, of his having once entertained so extravagant and mad a resolution.

XLVII. This impious and ridiculous folly was carried to the most shameless length by the emperor Adrian; who built temples, raised altars, constituted priests, festivals, and sacrifices, to whom? Why, to a boy of Bythinia named Antonio, the accomplice of his abominable turpitudes, who as some say was drowned by accident in the Nile, and as others tell the story, he of his own free will offered up his life in a magic sacrifice, which was made to prolong that of the emperor, and which according to the rites and ceremonies appertaining to it, required a voluntary victim.

XLVIII. But although it may be true, that the human affections of love, vanity, and interest, assisted by the fictions of the poets, have been the cause of deifying many men, still the system of Senior Branchini cannot subsist in its general and extended sense, for the following reasons. In the first place, because of the total exclusion it makes of all sacred history, which, as we have already said, some poets might have adulterated, in the same manner, and by the same means, they adulterated profane ones. Secondly, because some of the fictions might have been pure fictions, or mere fables, unmixed or unconnected with any history whatever. Who can prevent a cunning artful man, that travels into a remote region, from relating prodigies of some hero of his own country, who never existed? and who afterwards could be answerable, that the people of the country where he had spread the lie, should not adopt this imaginary hero as a divinity? Thirdly, as a great portion of the gentiles worshiped stars or planets, which they believed were animated, it is probable, that many of their fictions alluded to no other object but them. For example, when the adoration of the sun became an established worship, they might, and it is natural that they should feign, that the deity who animated it, had done such and such things, which bore no relation to any man or circumstance whatever, but only to the imaginary spirit.

XLIX. Lastly, the greatest part of the fables of the Gentiles, may have had no other origin, than some mystical, moral, political, or philosophical figure or representation, which their authors calculated them to illustrate or inculcate. I mean that those who contrived and fabricated them, had no other intention, than to represent obscurely, and under the veil of fables, some theological mysteries, or some philosophical, political, or moral maxims; but that afterwards, the ignorance of the vulgar, by mistaking their intent and meaning, and by construing and understanding them in a literal sense, came to form out of them, a ridiculous theology and religion, which never entered the heads of those who were the original authors of them. It is well known, the Egyptians under hieroglyphicks, concealed not only their religion, but even their history, policy, and philosophy, which were only laid open or explained to their kings, and priests of the Sun. It is probable that in imitation of the Egyptians, who in those days were venerated as the most learned people in the world, many other nations adopted the same practice; and it is also possible that the Egyptians themselves, might have derived this custom from some other nation, who at one time might have been superior to them in wisdom and learning; and it is likewise possible, that this might have been a common practice in early antiquity. It is certain, that there are vast numbers of the pagan fables, which are capable of bearing a much more apt and commodious application to their physics, their morals, and their policy, than to their history. Read the treatise of the famous Bacon de sapientia veterum, who, by pursuing this idea, has been very happy in his explanation of not a few of those fables.

L. Thus we perceive, this is a matter capable of affording innumerable conjectures; but not a basis, solid enough to build any general system upon; which is the point we have chiefly endeavoured to demonstrate in this discourse; and particularly, with respect to the union or connexion of fable with history; and more especially with sacred history; which differs as much, and is as widely distant from the errors of paganism, as the greatest truth is from the greatest lie.

THE ORIGIN OF FABLE IN HISTORY .

Dear Sir,

I. My esteem for your person, induces me to respect your letter; but if I was not restrained by the first of these considerations, I don’t know how I might be disposed to treat the epistle; because the charge you alledge against me in it, is destitute of all foundation. You first of all point-blank accuse me, with having in my essay on the Divorce of History from Fable, advanced, there is no fiction whatever of paganism, which is derived from sacred history; and then treat the maxim as savouring of impiety. But if broaching this maxim was criminal and a sin, alas! what must become of the honour and piety, of the most learned, and most religious abbot Branchini? for he was the man who first advanced, and afterwards with all his might, endeavoured to enforce and establish this system, and asserted, that all the fables of the pagans, were founded on, and derived from profane history. But why does this sentiment savour of impiety? You answer this, and say, because it takes away a species of support from the truth of holy writ. This can hardly be esteemed a very substantial species of support. Whoever would be inclined to doubt or disbelieve the scripture truths, notwithstanding the firm foundation on which they rest, would not be disposed to credit them, on account of the weak auxiliary confirmation they derive from such a support? That the origin of the fables of the Gentiles, were derived from those truths, is at best but a doubtful, and a speculative opinion; and how can a doubtful proof confirm any man in the belief of a matter, which rests, or is founded in that sort of proof? But if a fair proof of this could be adduced, it would answer no purpose, for it would be very easy for him who was guilty of the impiety, in order to elude any consequences from the detection, to pretend he derived the hint from another fable, and that these tales are the children of one another, and that those of the latest date, are introduced to ornament and give lustre to those which preceded them.

II. But admitting that the maxim did border upon impiety, I am by no means interested in defending or justifying it, as I was in no wise concerned in preferring it, and therefore it is very unjust in you to impute it to me. My object in the discourse you mention, was that of combating the system, which derives all the fictions of gentilism in general, from sacred history; although as is evident from my words in the 43d article of that Discourse, I admit that some of them might possibly have sprung from that source, how then can you when these were my words, fix a charge upon me of affirming, that no fiction whatever of paganism, took its rise from sacred history?

III. I also combat, although it is only by the way, or en passant, the system of Senior Branchini, who asserts, that all the fables were the offspring of profane history; or, to speak more properly, he endeavours to inculcate, that the first are mysterious or enigmatical representations of the last, which attempt, necessarily betrays him into some violent and absurd allusions; and perhaps into such as are more glaring, than those I have pointed out, by which, he derives all the fables from holy writ. For example; he pretends that all the Iliad is a true history, but converted into allegory, agreeable to the practice of the East. That Jupiter was the successor of the great conqueror Sesostris, whose dominion extended over a vast tract of country in the time of the Trojan war; that the inferior deities, represented either eminent men, or particular nations; and that a part of those deities, were tributary princes to the said Sesostris, or some one of his successors, whose dependence upon him, did not deprive them of the option, of taking part either with the Trojans or the Greeks, just as their passions or interests dictated to them. That the goddess Juno was Syria, called Blanca, and was characterized by the white arms of Juno, so much extolled by Homer. Minerva was the wise Egypt, Mars the union or combination of Armenia, Colquida, Thrace and Thessaly; and in this manner, he reasons upon the other fables. Into such strange paradoxes as these, are men drawn by their passion for systems of great extent.

IV. But although I don’t assent to the system of Senior Branchini, the whole of which it is impossible to adjust, without falling into great absurdities, I agree, after the example of many men eminent for their literature, that a large portion of the fables, is a compound of parcels of profane history, disguised and deformed; but still the alteration they have undergone, has not so thoroughly disfigured them, but that we may discern in the copies, sufficient marks of their origin and derivation; and I propose pointing out to you in this letter, the instances of this sort that occur to me.

V. It is highly probable, that some of the subaltern deities, were formed upon the idea that was entertained by the populace, of some particular persons, eminent either for their heroic virtues, or for having been the inventors of some arts, that were found to be exceedingly useful to the public. This is the account Pliny gives of the matter in chap. 1. of his twenty-fifth book. At herculè, singula quosdam inventa deorum numero addidere.

VI. Saturn devouring his children, according to Mr. Rollin, is derived from a part of the Carthaginian history, which speaks of a king of Carthage, who buried his sons alive as a sacrifice to the gods; and this agrees in substance, with the account given of the thing by Mons. Bonamy, in his History of the Royal Academy of Inscriptions, tom. 7. p. 29. But, as we shall see in the sequel, it is much more probable, that the fabulous Saturn of paganism was derived from the true Abraham of scripture.

VII. The Cretans considered Jupiter as their countryman; and even in the time of Lucian, as appears by this author in his Dialogue of Jupiter Tragicus, shewed his tomb in that island; and although they allowed he was dead, it without doubt had been handed down to them by tradition, that he was some eminent man, and had peradventure been king of the country.

VIII. In the fiction of the Stygian Lake, and of the boatman Charon, is contained a mixture of natural and civil history. There is in Arcadia a lake, which not only was called Stygia at the time when the poets first began to make it famous by their inventions, but many ages after that æra, preserved this name; for even in the days of Pliny it retained it; and I don’t know whether it does not retain it with very little alteration, at this period. The deadly quality of its waters, gave occasion to the poets, to feign that it was of infernal derivation, and to place the source, both of the lake, and the river which runs into it, in the region of the dead. Pliny says, that the waters of it, by being drunk, kill in an instant; and adds upon the authority of Theophrastus, that there are little fish bred in it, which poison whoever eats them. Some antient authors, attribute a faculty to its waters so intensely corrosive, that it can’t be contained in any vessel, but one made of a wild ass’s hoof, as it gnaws and tears to pieces, those made of any other materials; and the disciples of Aristotle formerly pretended, that this secret was revealed by their master to Antipater, to instruct him how he might send some of this poisonous water to Babylon, for the destruction of Alexander.

IX. The learned Abbé Fourmont, who in the years 1729 and 30, by order of the most Christian king, made a voyage of critical enquiry to the Levant, where he scrutinized with the greatest exactness all Greece, and after passing the brook which supplied it with water, examined with much attention the Stygian Lake; which he gives the following horrible description of. He says, the water of the brook which runs into it, before it enters the lake, is clear, but after that, becomes thick and tainted; an alteration, which can only be imputed to the bad qualities and pernicious nature of its bottom. He says further, the surface presents to the view, a confused mixture of the most disgustful tints; and that a thick scum, of the colour of the rust of copper tinged with black, swims on its top, which being agitated by the wind, looks like the bubbles of boiling tar or bitumen. The obnoxious active quality of its waters, is not less pernicious than its aspect is displeasing; and the vapours which arise from them, blight all the plants that grow near the lake; and that it’s banks are avoided and fled from, by all sorts of beasts. The Abbé Fourmont mentions a circumstance, that contradicts what has been related by Theophrastus, which is, that its fish poison whoever eats them; for he asserts, that no fish can live in the waters of the lake; and saying they are deadly to the very fish, is certainly an aggravation of their pernicious qualities.

X. The lake then, being in so many respects horrible and affrighting, it is no wonder that from these circumstances, poetic fancy should place it in the region of horror, or at the entrance of it.

XI. The fable of the boatman Charon, who for an obolo, an Athenian piece of money worth a little more than our halfpenny, carried the souls of the dead over the lake, was derived from an Egyptian story, related by Diodorus Siculus. There was in Egypt a lake, over which dead bodies after they were embalmed, were carried to the opposite shore to be buried; and there were judges appointed to attend at the place of embarkation, to examine into the course of life which had been led by the dead persons; and after this inquiry, to pronounce whether they were or were not, worthy to be interred; which office was exercised with such severity, that this common honour has been denied to some of the royal family. To this story there is annexed a tradition, which the Abbé Fourmont says, subsists in that part of Egypt at this day. The tradition is as follows; that there was once a farmer of the revenues of one of the Pharaohs, who laid a tax upon this transportation of the dead, which brought in vast sums. Thus you see, that both in Greece and Egypt, there were found true materials, wherewith to fabricate the fable of the Stygian Lake, to build the boat which conveyed the dead bodies to the abyss, and to erect a monument, to eternize the avarice of the boatman Charon.

XII. The fable of the river Lethe, whose waters the dead are obliged to drink, to make them forget all they ever saw or knew in the region of the living, and also that of the boatman Charon, are both of African origin. This river rises near the great bog or quicksand, and after running under ground, and being hid for some miles, shews itself again near to the city of Berenica, now Bernick or Bernisho, greatly increased in size, by the addition made to it, by subterraneous waters; and this made it thought, that it was not the same river which they had before seen bury itself under ground, and was also the circumstance, that gave rise to its deriving its source from Hell.

XIII. The river likewise which was antiently called Lethe, but now goes by the name of Limia, and runs through my native country; and concerning which, there was once a prevailing opinion among the Romans, that it had the same properties which the poets attributed to the infernal river, causing forgetfulness, not only in those who drank of its waters, but also in those who waded through it, and it not being then certain whether this error or preoccupation with respect to the river Lethe, and the fiction of its source originating in Hell, took its rise from the river Lethe of my country; or whether the fable of the river Lethe coming from Hell, and the property of its waters being then established, might have occasioned the confounding the river Lethe of Galicia with the other.

XIV. I say, however this was, the opinion of the qualities of the river Lethe, was so rooted and fixed among the vulgar of the Romans, that when the consul Decimus Brutus, as Florus calls him, or Aulus Brutus, as he is called by Paterculus, was engaged in the conquest of Galicia, and who on account of his having conquered it, obtained the surname of Gallego; I say, when this consul came to the river Lethe, which is fordable, none of his soldiers, for fear of incurring that general forgetfulness, would venture to wade through it, till the consul who was not preoccupied with the vulgar error, passed thro’ it to the opposite shore; and when he was arrived there, turned about and called some of his countrymen by their names, by which he gave them to understand, that he had not incurred the forgetfulness they so much dreaded; and said further to them, as Florus informs us, Formidatum Romanis fluvium oblivionis.

XV. The story of Dedalus, and his being obliged to fly from the resentment of Minos, by means of the invention of wings, for having facilitated to Pasiphaë her abominable commerce with a bull, was meant to describe nothing more, than her having been enamoured with Taurus, who, according to Plutarch, was one of the principal generals in the army of Minos; and Dedalus’s having assisted, by exerting the ordinary means practised on such occasions, in bringing about the completion of the lovers wishes; after finishing the business he fled from the vengeance of Minos, in a vessel that had sails, which might properly enough be compared to wings, and which the imagination being put to the stretch to find out a way of escaping, they were then supposed to have been first invented: or if the idea had before been entertained, that was the first time of its being carried into practice.

XVI. The chimerical feats of Jason, and his stealing the golden fleece, are historically explained by the celebrated Samuel Bochart, who, by the help of his knowledge of the Phœnician language, discovered, that there were some words of equivocal meaning in that idiom, which gave occasion to the fabrication of this portentous fable. The Syriac word Gaza, in the Phœnician language, signifies both a treasure and a fleece; the word Saur also, in the same language, signifies both a wall and a bull; and the word Nachas, is also indifferently used to express a dragon and iron. Thus, instead of saying that Jason, by breaking down or scaling a wall defended by armed men, had made himself master of the treasure of the king of Colquida; they represent him, as having tamed the bulls which breathed fire, and the tremendous dragon, which guarded the golden fleece, and by that means had made himself master of it. Neither in the love of Medea for Jason, or in her running away with him, was there any thing extraordinary, or that required the assistance of Minerva, for a natural passion, accompanied with resolution, could without any other aid, surmount all the difficulties in such an undertaking.

XVII. The Centaurs, half men and half horses, which make a great figure in the heathen mythology, were nothing more, according to the best authors, than types or representations of some of the inhabitants of Thessaly, who were the first people that were known to fight on horseback, and to train and break horses, for the use and business of war; and it was in that region, the poets placed the Centaurs, and it was from thence, that they say Hercules expelled them.

XVIII. The harpies (who could suppose it?) were no more than great swarms of locusts, which in the reign of king Phineus, desolated Paphlagonia. In the dictionary of Moreri (vid. the word Harpies) you may see the proofs of this, which I shall omit inserting here, as that dictionary is so well known.

XIX. In the same manner, from portions of profane history, may be explained many other parts of the heathen mythology; such as the fable of Perseus, that of Belerophonte, that of the Hesperides, that of the Gorgons, and many more. But this is not a matter of sufficient importance to dwell upon.

XX. I also confess, that there are some parts of profane mythological history, that may be opportunely explained by the sacred, as those who have embraced the general system of deducing the first from the last, have clearly proved; but their success in some of these particulars, has been the cause of their great error, as it has encouraged them in the absurd and incongruous attempt, of deducing from scripture, the whole Pagan mythology. I will here venture, notwithstanding this has been a path so much trodden, to point some especial marks of similitude and identity, between a deity of the gentiles, and a conspicuous person of holy writ. This is the example I before promised to give, and which relates to the resemblance between the father of the faithful with one of the most antient of the Pagan deities, that is, between Abraham and Saturn. But I must premise, that the reader is not indebted to me for this beautiful parallel, but to the Abbé Boissy, a member of the Academy Royal of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres at Paris, who is the person that advanced it in that famous assembly; and I shall translate it here in the sense of the language of the author, as I find it inserted, in the first volume of the History of that academy.

XXI. He says that Saturn, according to the relations of the poets and historians, was the person who first introduced the detestable custom of sacrificing human victims. The Saturn of the Pagans, is in the judgment of the best critics, the Abraham of scripture; and a fragment of Sanchionata, which is produced by Eusebius, does to appearance, put the thing out of all doubt. The fragment runs as follows; Saturn, whom the Phœnicians call Israel, was after his death classed among the gods, under the name of a planet, which at this time is called Saturn. In the days of this prince’s reign in Phœnicia, he had by a nymph named Anobret, an only son whom he called Jeud, a word which even to this day, among the Phœnicians signifies only son. Finding that he had engaged his country in a dangerous war, he adorned his son with the vestments and insignia of royalty, and sacrificed him on an altar erected by himself. In another fragment of the same Sanchionata, we find, that this same Saturn circumcised himself, and obliged all his family to do the like. Nicholas Damascenus, Justin, and other authors, give to Abraham the rank and quality of a king; and even the scripture remarks, that he made alliances, and treated with other kings as with his equals; and besides this, the patriarchs were known to exercise royal authority in their own families. Berosus, as we are informed by Josephus, adds, that Abraham had great skill in astrology; and Eupolemus, as we are told by Eusebius, says, that he was the inventor of the science of the Chaldeans. There needs nothing more to persuade us, that the Phœnicians were disposed to place him among the gods and the planets. They called him Israel, either from their confounding the grandfather with the grandson, or because they gave that name to the people who were descended from him. The name of Jeud, his only son, has the same meaning as that of Isaac; and Anobret, as Bochart informs us, signifies ex gratia concipiens, which signification, is very applicable to the circumstances of Sarah. Finally, and as the last instance of conformity between them, Saturn circumcised himself, and obliged all his family to do the same; a remarkable particular this, and which can agree only with the circumstances of Abraham. Thus far the before cited author.

XXII. I say the same of the two systems, that derive all the fictions of Paganism, the one from sacred, the other from profane history, that I say of all the other systems; which is, that there is somewhat of truth in every one of them, but that they all in general are false. Father Kircher inclined to the sentiment, that all the fables derived their origin from the language, or hyerogliphical characters of the Egyptians; although it is necessary, in order to support this opinion, to suppose that they all originated in Egypt, which is very wide of the truth; but as that kingdom in the ages of antiquity, made a great figure in the world, and was in an especial manner venerated as the metropolis of the sciences, it is probable, that the language of it, and the mysterious expressions of some of its inhabitants, which were ill understood, or not understood at all by the vulgar, might have given rise to some of the mythological tales.

XXIII. Bochart pretends to demonstrate, that they were all derived from the equivocal meaning of words in the Phœnician language, and with respect to some of them, has succeeded very happily in illustrating this sentiment; as for example, in his explanation of the fable of the golden fleece. But the general system is absurd, even if you suppose there is no other thing to object against it, than the chimera, that Phœnicia is the country from whence the whole of the fables are descended; but in order to prove this, it will be necessary to shew, that no histories depraved with fictions, were communicated to other kingdoms, but in Phœnician manuscripts.

XXIV. The Platonists imagined, that nothing else was concealed under the veil of fables, but documents and maxims of natural philosophy. And there certainly is something of this sort implied in them; as for example, in the description which Homer gives of Aurora, as the daughter of the air, and the office which other poets assign to her, of the guardianship or custody of the gates of the east, which she is to open every morning with her dewy fingers, taking care to send the zephyrs before to dispel the dark shades. All which imagery at the bottom, means nothing more, than to describe the properties of the morning air, and to display the appearances of day-break in the east, before the sun rises above the horizon.

XXV. Others have imagined, that all the fables were meant to convey some moral or political lessons, and that the authors designed nothing more when they invented them, than to inculcate under a species of allegory, rational maxims, which might be useful in human life; and there are really some of them, that seem to have been written with no other view. The fable of Phaeton for example, appears to have been calculated, to represent the dangers to which people expose themselves, by attempting things greatly superior to their power or abilities; and that of Narcissus, to represent the extravagance and folly of self-love or admiration. But saying that all the fables were written with this design, would be a manifest chimera.

XXVI. Finally, the infatuated alchymists, or at least some of them, have dreamed, that the fables of which we have been speaking, contain enigmatically, the doctrine of the philosophers stone; that is, that they teach in a mysterious way, all the operations which are necessary to be gone thro’, for attaining the happy secret of transmuting all other metals into gold. Perhaps what occasioned this silly apprehension, was their finding in the idiom of their art, the names of the seven principal deities of the Pagans, which are the same as those of the seven planets, applied to the seven metals they make use of; but the application of those names to the metals, was posterior many ages, to their being given to the deities and the planets. The first alchymists who called the metals by those names, were excited to do it by the same motive, which has ever induced them to give to all the materials, operations, and effects of their art, strange and sounding names, which they do, either to conceal their pretended secrets, or by the mysterious magnificence of their stile, to attract the respect and admiration of the vulgar; and the resemblance of the splendor of the sun’s rays to the colour of gold, and the light of the moon, to that of silver, was favourable to their intention, and assisted them in making the application.

XXVII. This system, is not only in its complex or whole substance, but in each, and every one of its parts, destitute of all foundation, and is therefore not worthy to be controverted, but should be treated with that contempt, which both this, and all the other imaginary productions of the alchymists deserve.

XXVIII. If this letter shall afford you neither entertainment nor instruction, it will at least serve as an apology for my conduct, and incline you to retract the censure, which you have fulminated against me, and my discourse of the Divorce of History from Fable; and I hope that at all events, your resentment will be calmed, and your apprehensions quieted by the following reflection; that although in that discourse I have weakened the bond of matrimony between the two parties, I have in this letter, on one of the sides, established a degree of affinity between them.

ON BOOKS of INSTRUCTION, WITH Respect to POLITICS . — SECT . I. — SECT . II. — SECT . III. — SECT . IV. — SECT . V. — SECT . VI. — SECT . VII. — SECT . VIII.

I. We scarce ever hear the antients talked of, with that judgment and moderation which good sense dictates. They are either treated with excessive veneration, or else they are scoffed at and despised, and this is generally governed by the subject matter on which you discourse. If this happens to be science or learning, the antient professors are talked of, as men much superior in abilities and comprehension to any of the moderns; and it will scarcely be admitted, that these last have discovered any thing, which was not known to the others long before. But when political sagacity or industry becomes the subject of conversation, all the advantage is given to these latter times; and to such an excessive degree, that the men of former ages, compared to the moderns, are considered as a sort of demi-brutes, who were actuated by a blind ferocity, and who exercised power, unrestrained by reason, and with a daring hardiness, void of all address.

II. I am of opinion, that this comparison between the antients and moderns should be inverted, and the things placed in a quite opposite point of view. I say, the moderns should be considered as superior to the antients in science, but not in political industry. The reason is, because science is communicated by books; and as we find expressed in those all which the antient professors ever attained, we by them are enabled to enrich our minds with the discoveries, not only of one, but many learned men. Thus a modern, of equal application and ingenuity with an antient, may consider himself as a river, which is enlarged by the stock flowing from all those fountains, and who has over and above this, a source in his own reason, with which he may add somewhat to the whole.

III. But this is not the case with political industry. For there is scarce any man who possesses a greater stock of policy, than what arises from the funds he has within himself. It is true, that you will find books full of political documents, and histories which exhibit numerous examples of them, which are still more instructive than the documents, because they represent more strikingly the application of them to practice, when circumstances for applying them to practice occur. But if we attend to the thing with subtle reflection, we shall find, that this instruction is only apparent; and although it makes a figure in theory, is useless in practice.

IV. The reason is, because when we are desirous of carrying those precepts into execution, there never occurs in the contingent we would apply them to, the same complex of circumstances which we find in the book. Never? Is it not possible that in one or another case we may meet with the same? No certainly, for it is absolutely necessary that one must always be wanting, which is the intervention of the agent who acted in the business. This circumstance, which nobody adverts to, is of the greatest weight. The same political maxim, which in the hands of one man may be most beneficial, conduced by another, may be found useless, and even pernicious.

V. The manner of doing things is of as much importance, and sometimes of more, than the substance of the things themselves; and this is hardly ever to be imitated. Every man has a peculiar, and an especial something, which is characteristic of himself, and distinguishes him from all others; and this is apt to vary in the same individual, according to the different temperament or disposition of his body or mind. A frank sentence, delivered with energy and grace, may be capable of exciting the admiration, respect, and applause, of the same person, whom it might offend, if spoken in a different manner; and the very same thing, pronounced timidly, ungraciously, and with an unpleasant countenance, might excite contempt, or indignation.

VI. A pirate who had fallen into the hands of Alexander, told the conqueror to his face, that he was a greater robber than himself, which was so far from exciting the indignation of that prince, that he rather seemed pleased with the man’s frankness. The liberty that Clitus took with him, was not near so insolent or injurious, and Alexander run him through with a lance. From whence could this extreme difference in Alexander’s feelings arise? Why from the pirate’s speaking with an heroic and serene firmness; and from Clitus his having spoken with a coarse impatience, and rustic impetuosity. This difference of manner is never to be acquired by study, but is the production and effect of innate genius.

VII. It is commonly said, that flattery is one of the most certain means by which a man can make his fortune; but with all this, how many thousands of flatterers do we see despised and neglected? The reason is, because there are very few of them, who know how to give to flattery that nice application which communicates strength to it, and makes it appear meritorious. Nor is it of any avail, to those who are so unfortunate as not to hit upon the mode of doing this, to study by detail the motions, the words, the air, and gestures of the fortunate, as the application we have mentioned, depends upon an innate genial quality, which can never be counterfeited by imitation; for how many people do we see make themselves ridiculous, by imitating the very thing, which when done by others, makes them respected?

VIII. Every political negotiation, may be compared to a machine, composed of many wheels, every one of which, by being more rigid, or more pliant, than is consistent with its just proportion, renders the whole machine useless; or it may be compared to a chemical process of long duration, whose success depends upon the different degrees of heat, to be applied with great nicety and precision, in the different stages of the process. But all the books that were ever written, either upon chemistry or mechanics, can never teach how to preserve this exact proportion of rigidity or pliability in the metals, or to apply this nice degree of heat to the fire, which is necessary for the completion of the business, and to answer the purposes intended. Even in these material operations, where the most nice and delicate parts of them, and the ultimate degree of exactitude in their execution, must be confided to a gift or innate talent in the artificer, we find that precepts are unequal to teach their performance; how then in political ones, where there is neither rule nor limits to determine their extension, their degrees of suspension, delay, or acceleration, with a thousand other contingent circumstances, can modes be prescribed for their execution?

IX. The impossibility of imitating political examples, will be found still more manifest, if we consider, besides the person who acts, the people he is to act with. What is it to the purpose, that such an ambassador, has negotiated perfectly well at such a court, by employing such means? This example will be of no use to another ambassador, because, abstracted from an infinite number of other circumstances, a repetition of whose perfect assemblage will scarce ever happen, he does not negotiate with the same ministers; and every different genius, has a different door, through which you must enter to have access to his spirit.

X. I may be told, that the political books have provided against this inconvenience, and have accommodated negotiators with a variety of prudent precepts, suited to the various geniuses with whom you are to treat. This is nothing to the purpose, but is all talking at random. For the examination of these geniuses, must be made by the negotiator, and not by the author of the book, and the difference and variety of geniuses, is totally incomprehensible to the human understanding. Every man has his distinct one, which is no more exactly like that of other men, than the features of his face. The terms in which these are described, both in books of morality and politics, are general. They tell you, that one man is passionate, another gentle; one ambitious, another moderate; one avaricious, another liberal; one courageous, another timid, &c. Do you think that these are the ultimate, and only differences to be found in geniuses? No, they are not; but are sorts or species, every one of which, contains within itself innumerable differences. Have you not seen a man, who was remarkable for facing his enemy in battle, and timid in supporting his opinion in conversation? and another who is very patient under acute pain, and outrageous upon hearing any thing injurious said against him? What does all this amount to, but that these are different degrees of valour, and of patience, which we have no names for? and it would be impossible to give names to all of them, because they are innumerable.

XI. These things may be compared to colours. If you should be asked how many species of colours there are, you would begin by reckoning up eight or ten; such as the red, the green, the blue, the white, &c. But can you suppose, that these are the ultimate and only species? No, they are subalterns, as the logicians call them, or sorts, every one of which, has innumerable species. To convince you of this truth, examine the leaves of a hundred plants of different species. You will find them all green, but not in any one of them, will you find a green perfectly like to that of any other plant. To every different species of plant, there is a correspondent different texture of the insensible particles of its leaves, and a different texture of the insensible particles, occasions a different reflexion of the light, in which, according to the most probable opinion, consists the diversity of the colours.

XII. In the same manner, there is no man who has not a distinct particular temperament, and different from that of all other men; and to a distinct temperament, there is no doubt, but there must be annexed a distinct genius.

XIII. Don’t imagine, that in political concerns, these minute differences are of no consequence; for oftentimes the whole depends upon them. Historians represent Philip the second severe; and they also represent the great Tamerlane the same, and even describe him as a ferocious and most cruel prince; but this second charge, is either false or uncertain. Who can comprehend, the difference there was between the severity of the two men? perhaps it might have been imperceptible. But with all this, it was sufficient to produce upon some particular occasions, diametrically opposite effects. A buffoon, with whom Philip was much entertained, said to him upon a certain occasion, a witty thing which the prince thought was indecent, for which he punished him with banishment: a pleasant poet, with whom Tamerlane used to amuse himself, said a satirical thing to him, which expressed a contempt of his person; and in return, Tamerlane made him a handsome present.

XIV. If I should be told, that this may depend not upon the substantial diversity, and let us call it by this name, of the different geniuses, but upon the accidental humour, which at that time prevailed in either of the princes, it being certain, that the same person may have his favourable and unfavourable moments, according as various internal or external causes affect his mind, and dispose it, either towards anger, or complacency; I reply, that for the support of my argument, one of these causes answers my purpose as well as the other. This same accidental disposition, is for the most part impenetrable, and is only known by experience from bad success, and after the mischief is done. The clouds of the soul, are sometimes seen on the brow of the countenance; but they for the most part do not appear; nor do we perceive them, till they are manifested to us by the flash of anger.

XV. So that all this upon reflexion, is but adding difficulty to difficulty. A man who has business, or pretensions to advance, should examine the genius of the prince or great person he is to negotiate with; and when by dint of much labour and industry, he has arrived at a thorough knowledge of him, he should watch the benign or adverse motions of the planet, whose auspices he is to observe, which he will never find instructions for doing, in any political almanack whatever.

XVI. From all that has been said, it may be inferred, that written directions, are of little, or no service in these cases. They make politicians for a coffee-house, but not for the cabinet; and may teach people to talk, but not to act; for the hoping to find the circumstances of the business to be treated upon, the same with those of the case or cases in the book, would be entertaining a metaphysical and uncertain expectation: on account, both of the substantial and accidental diversity of the geniuses with whom you are to treat; and also, on account of the diversity in the mode of acting by the same agent, at different times. This last circumstance, which is but little attended to, is sufficient of itself, for the reasons we have mentioned before, to produce effects, totally different from those, we are taught to expect by the documents.

XVII. If the instruction of great masters was capable of making a man a politician, Richard Cromwel, the son of Oliver, should have been one of the greatest the world ever produced. The same Oliver, who after the tragical death of Charles the First of England, which he had a principal hand in accomplishing, erected himself into the tyrant of that kingdom, under the title of a Protector; and without doubt, Cromwel the father was one of the most able politicians which either that, or any other age had ever seen. His industry and his valour, raised him from a middling station of life, to the highest degree of military and magisterial rank. His address and resolution, enabled him to accomplish that unexampled attempt, of trying, and with all the formality of a legal process, condemning his own Sovereign to an ignominious death. When the King was dispatched, he abolished the house of Lords, and vested the whole authority of parliament in the Commons; whom he afterwards divested of all their power, by driving the members when they were assembled, ignominiously out of their house; and as a testimony of the arbitrary authority with which he acted, and to shew that was not a transitory expulsion, he caused a board to be nailed on the outside of the door, on which was the following inscription, This house to be let. In fine, he ruled that kingdom to his last gasp, with a more absolute sway, than any King who had ever gone before, or since his time has succeeded to the throne; bringing about, that a parliament being convened by himself for the purpose, should declare the title and office of Protector hereditary in his family. All this he executed in a nation, so fierce and zealous of their liberties as the English, which is the clearest proof that can be given, of his supreme political abilities. In reality, I am disposed to believe all circumstances considered, that there never to this day, has appeared a man, who did so much, or has shewed so many, and so great marks of political ability, as Oliver Cromwel.

XVIII. In the school of this great man, his son Richard was tutored many years, and not only with instructions purely theoretical or verbal, but practical and executive. He saw all the movements, and various expedients, which his father exerted and played off, according to the various exigencies of his affairs; neither was the reason of proportioning these means, to attain particular ends, concealed from him. And of what use was all this to the disciple? Of none, because instead of teaching him how to acquire something more than he possessed, it did not so much as instruct him how to preserve that which his father had left him firmly established in; and before a year had passed over his head after his father’s death, notwithstanding it had been secured to him by act of parliament, he found himself deposed from the rank of Protector, and obliged to live retired like a private gentleman, in a country house. If within the same kingdom, and negotiating with the same people, and in the same situation of affairs, where the views were directed to the same objects, all the lessons both of theory and practice which he had received from his father, were unprofitable to this man, who did not retain one political arcanum, of the great number that had been communicated to him from the vast fund of knowledge and penetration of so able a master; and if a school of politics so circumstanced, was of no use to him who studied in it for so many years, what occasion have we to expect, that by the simple reading of books, a man should ever attain the art, of skilfully directing the business of a state?

XIX. Nor is there any reason to suppose, that Richard was a stupid man, and totally incapable of receiving instruction; for nobody has described him as such; nor is it credible, if he had been such a sort of person, that the English would have permitted him to have continued with the rank of Protector as the successor to his father, for the little time he enjoyed it. The truth is, that he was much inferior to his father in natural talents; and that no political instructions were capable of supplying this defect. Oliver was not only a man of great capacity, but of a genius that was apt and suitable to every thing, and equally understood how to command an army, or to direct a state. Over and above this, he was magnanimous, and possessed a stout heart. There was not known a more courageous soldier, in the age in which he lived. When the town of Hull was besieged by King Charles, and in a weak state of defence, Oliver at the head of only twelve horsemen, threw himself into the place, by breaking through the centre of the royal army, exposed to the fire of showers of bullets; and the preservation of the town, was owing to the many prodigies of valour which Oliver exerted in its defence. In one of the battles in which he was engaged, he took with his own hands, two standards of cavalry, and the colours of a regiment of infantry. In another battle, where one wing of the parliament army was totally routed, and the Earl of Manchester the general put to flight, Oliver, without giving himself scarce time to have a dangerous wound he had received in the battle bound up, flew to stop the earl and the fugitive troops, on whom his ardour and eloquence had so much weight, that they returned with him to the charge, and intirely put to flight and dispersed the royal army. These and other acts of extraordinary valour, joined to the many victories he obtained by dint of his intrepid courage, gained him the respect and esteem of the English, who are naturally enamoured with bravery, and idolizers of military glory.

XX. To these great talents, Oliver added the lure of hypocrisy, which has vast influence on the populace. At the same time that he was bathing his hands in the blood of Great Britain, and striving to dethrone his legitimate prince, in order to usurp the sovereign power, the name of God was constantly in his mouth; who he endeavoured to make it believed, was the especial director of his conduct, and that he himself was nothing more than an instrument, who in obedience to the divine will, executed the decrees of heaven for the public good, and to advance the prosperity of the kingdom.

XXI. These good and bad qualities, were united in Oliver Cromwel, and all conspired, to enable him to deprive a powerful monarch of his crown and life, and to overturn a great state. But of what advantage was it to his son Richard, to hear his father’s lessons, and to see these examples, if he did not inherit his father’s talents?

XXII. I am already aware, that there will be some, who will be prepared to urge as an excuse for Richard, the apology which Dionysius the younger made for himself; who, when he was asked, how it came to pass that his father from being a private man, acquired the principality of Sicily, and that he who succeeded to him as a prince, found himself reduced to live as a common subject; replied, my father left me his crown, but did not leave me heir to his fortune. But with all this, there is no doubt, that the fall of Richard was owing to his want of ability to conduct himself, and it is very probable, that the disgrace of Dionysius originated from the same cause. There is no indiscreet man whatever, who does not impute to fortune, the mischiefs he brings on himself by his imprudence. Dionysius the younger, was more cruel than his father, and was nothing near equal to him in the capacity of a warrior. Thus, the Syracusians experienced from him, severities that irritated them, and also found, that he wanted the necessary power to keep them in subjection. Between the Cromwels, this inequality was much more conspicuous. The father had an able head, and a great heart. The son had neither head nor heart; and it was for want of resolution, that at the beginning of the revolt, he suffered himself to be overpowered by the leaders of the opposite faction; and it was for want of judgment or a head, that he placed such excessive confidence in the ties of kindred, and relied wholly on his uncle and brother-in-law, who in their hearts were unfriendly to him, and in the end were those who deposed him.

XXIII. There is not, as I have already said, any instruction whatever, that is capable of supplying or correcting these defects. Tuition, cannot communicate valour to him, who has it not naturally; and the knowledge of what people you can put confidence in, upon such and such particular occasions, is precisely the effect of perspicuity and native sagacity, accompanied with sollicitous and vigilant observation; neither of which, can ever be taught. He, who by his temperament and disposition is slothful, can never be made active; because the temperament is not to be mended or altered. When you have done your best to correct it, you will find, that it is like a dull jadish horse, who, when he is spurred, will be enlivened for a minute, but immediately afterwards reverts to his ordinary sloth.

XXIV. And indeed, intellectual heaviness, is more difficult to be remedied than the other. I defy you to spur a slow understanding into reasoning with any agility; nor can you make it advance a step faster without causing it to stumble; and he who, left to his own natural heaviness, might possibly hit upon something right, if he is hurried, would be for ever making mistakes and blunders. Load such a man with political lessons, and you will find, that it would have the effect of a burden laid upon a dull beast; which would make him to move more heavily than he did before. While he is revolving in his mind precepts and examples, and examining them one by one, to determine which is adaptable to the circumstances and matter he is to determine upon, he lets slip the opportunity of giving his vote in the cabinet, or of acting in the business.

XXV. But supposing the matter in question admits of delay, he will scarce find in all his expedients acquired by study, one, which in all its circumstances, will exactly quadrate with the case in debate, for the expecting to find repeated in their full extent, the same identical complex of accidents, is entertaining a metaphysical idea, and wandering out of the ordinary course of nature. It may be objected to this reasoning, that a person of ability, might modify and suit the doctrines he has been taught, by making a few alterations in them, to fit the case in question: I answer, that the same talents that it would require to do this, would enable him, without resorting to this auxiliary aid, to find out a proper expedient in the business himself. And it is worthy of observation, that an expedient, which a man who is to negotiate a business hits upon himself, although in general it may be inferior to one that might be acquired by study, still it may do better for that particular occasion, than the one of superior quality, which was the offspring of another understanding. There is no man whatever, who does not with more dexterity, carry into execution his own ideas, than those of other people; for these are plants which thrive but ill, when they are transplanted from their own native soil. Every one comprehends the force, the use, and the opportuneness of a maxim, which springs from the source of his own mind; and on account of the correspondence and agreement there is, between the reasoning and the operative faculties in one and the same person, a man’s head, accommodates itself well to the execution of the means, which his own understanding invented.

XXVI. But, abstracted from this consideration, it is certain, that all men have their distinct mode of acting; and the mode of operation, is of the utmost importance for the attaining of ends. Of what use would my having read the device, with which another man extricated himself from a difficulty, if when I had occasion to put the same scheme in practice, I found myself not possessed of the dexterity, the agility, the air and manner, with which the other gave life and efficacy to his contrivance? a deficiency in point of valour only, would spoil the whole; it being an established truth, that a tremulous hand cannot draw a steady line.

XXVII. We may add to this, that the inserting the great number of maxims and cautions which we read in histories, arose principally from the negligence, sloth, or ignorance of those, with whom the communicators of them have had to do in negotiations. If I can’t suppose in the business that presents itself to me, some of those specifical defects in the people with whom I am to treat; the imitation of the maxims, will not only stand me in no stead, but may be hurtful to me. The same motion of the arm, which in fencing may kill an unwary enemy, may give an opening to another who is watchful and attentive, to demolish the person who made the motion.

XXVIII. Finally: Experience is the arbitrator in these matters, as it is in most others. There have in all times, been eminent politicians, without the assistance of books; and very lame ones, who have read and studied them. It is certain, that in Tacitus, we see exposed, the errors by which some princes lost their crowns, and the artifices by which others acquired or preserved them. Charles the First of England, was a great admirer of Tacitus, whose works he always carried about with him, and for which he had so great a respect, that he adopted them as the oracles of his government. Notwithstanding this, they did not teach him to avoid the errors of those who had lost their crowns; nor to imitate the arts of those, who had acquired or preserved them; and with all the assistance of this great guide Tacitus, he scarce advanced a step, that did not approach him to the precipice; and by pursuing, or misunderstanding the maxims of that politician, he caused himself to descend from the throne, in order to mount the scaffold.

XXIX. By way of contrast to Charles the First of England, we may instance Charles the First of Spain, and the Fifth of Germany, who, without the assistance of literature, but left solely to the benefit of his own genius, was one of the most profound politicians of the age in which he lived.

XXX. The Romans, conquered the world without the help of books, and lost it after they knew the use of them. It was in the reign of Augustus, that the first schools of politics were opened in Rome; I mean, that then the Romans began to read the Grecian histories, in which are represented the industry and arduous application exerted by that most sagacious people, in the management of public business. Of what use was all this instruction to the Romans? Of the same it had been before to the Greeks themselves; who, when they had present and before their eyes, inserted in written histories, the conduct of their greatest politicians, were obliged to submit to the superior ability of the Romans, who had not the least benefit of those instructions; and the Romans, after that cultivation was introduced among them, proceeded by little and little, to lose all they had gained before.

XXXI. The two Roman historians, Livius and Sallust, who both wrote in the reign of Augustus, were in no wise inferior to the best Greek ones; and the Romans, in case they had not well understood the foreign ones, had then masters of their own. We may add to this, that they had for their instruction, the great example of Augustus himself; who, not from the help of reading or study, but by the dint of his own excellent genius, was without doubt a most signal politician. But all this was useless, and perhaps hurtful. Rome, which had gone on continually prospering, while she was a stranger to these lessons, was, soon after she began to listen to them, advancing fast to her destruction. Or let us express it in another way; the Romans were great politicians when they did not conceit themselves such; and ceased to be so, when by studying foreign maxims, they fancied they had improved themselves much in political knowledge.

XXXII. But where is the necessity of making a repetition of examples? All those who were the first founders of monarchies and republics, were endued with supreme political abilities; for without possessing those talents, how could they have trained a roving and savage multitude, to submit to the yoke, and live sociably and quietly under one prince, or a determined set of magistrates? What books could they study, at a time when such things were hardly known? And what examples could they copy after, who were the first that adopted that kind of management? Those who succeeded them, had the benefit of their examples for their guidance; but with all this advantage, the greatest part of them could do no more, than just preserve the dominion that fell to them by inheritance, very few improved it, and some of them lost it. So that we may apply to both one and the other of them respectively, what Cæsar in his oration for Catiline, said in the Roman senate, Profecto virtus, atque sapientia major in illis fuit, qui ex parvis opibus magnum imperium facere, quam in nobis, qui ea bene parta vix retinemus. (Apud Sallustium)

XXXIII. What we have said in this discourse, is equally adaptable to high and low policy, both the one and the other of which, are derived from the bottom of the soul. The first requires a noble innate disposition, a clear understanding, and firm virtue; the second, cunning, dissimulation, and hypocrisy. Activity and resolution, are qualities precisely necessary in both of them; and he who possesses these requisites, whenever there is occasion to exert his talents, and apply them to practice, will be found a good politician, although he has never looked into a political book.

XXXIV. I won’t however deny, that historical instances may not afford some sort of aid, but I assert, that they don’t do it in the way that is commonly supposed. The study of history, will make no man a politician who is not such by nature and genius; but he who has the natural necessary talents for becoming one, may derive some advantage from it; because it furnishes him with a general knowledge of the various dispositions and arts of men, and because the reading of many uncommon events, may prevent his being surprized or alarmed when such occur to him; and because also, the reverses of fortune which present themselves at every turn in history, may put him on his guard, and teach him not to have too much confidence in his own security.

XXXV. It is true, that all these benefits, are attended with their inconveniences, which are a sort of counterpoise to them; in the first place, a multiplicity of instances may perplex; and in the second, the apprehensions of the misfortunes he has seen happen so frequently, may intimidate a man. The memory being crouded with a great number of species, occasions, when it is necessary to separate and examine any one particularly, a prolix discussion, which is much exposed to perplexities and mistakes. The consideration of the many reverses of fortune people are liable to, and the strange accidents that frequently befall them, which no human precaution can guard against, is apt to beget in the mind a great diffidence, which when a man is obliged to act, often renders his operations remiss and languid.

XXXVI. But with respect to the various expedients, which present themselves in history, and by which politicians of former times accomplished the ends they had in view, I apprehend that they embarras more than they assist. Even though we could meet with here and there one adaptable to the matter in question, the selecting it from among such a multitude of others, and the finding out perfectly its proportions, requires more pains and study, than it would cost a man to invent a fresh expedient, which he might derive from the fund of his own understanding.

XXXVII. The books which are wrote expressly upon politics, and which proceed by cases, conclusions and aphorisms, only teach general rules; which would occur to, and be taken in or comprehended by, every man of good understanding, without the assistance of a book; and besides this, they require so much consideration and attention, and are liable to so many exceptions, and demand so many limitations and restrictions in particular instances, that considered in the latitudinary manner in which they are propounded, they become absolutely useless.

AN APOLOGY for, OR VINDICATION of, THE CHARACTERS Of some Persons who have been famous in HISTORY . — EMPEDOCLES. SECT . I. — DEMOCRITUS. SECT . II. — EPICURUS. SECT . III. — PLINY the elder . SECT . IV. — LUCIUS APULEIUS. SECT . V. — The great TAMERLAN. SECT . VI.

I. Not only the people, whose defence we undertake in this discourse, lived in different times, and were of different ranks, sexes, and professions, but the subject-matters also, to which the apologies apply, were of different kinds. This diversity of itself, seems as if it would require a distinct discourse to apologize for each person separately; and in truth, some authors have written whole volumes, upon subjects that were not of any more importance. But as the variety of different matters which I have proposed to comprehend under this head, obliges me to be as concise as possible; I conjecture, that for the sake of the convenience that will result from my doing so, I may be allowed to range them under one common title. By pursuing this method, I shall prefer the benefit of the reader to my own; for if I had divided into many discourses, what might be comprehended under one general head, he would have paid me for writing a great deal, which was not of more value than so much blank paper; as in large letters, the titles of so many discourses would have occupied a considerable space; and I, with little trouble to myself, should have been paid the same price for the book, as if it had been all filled with useful matter.

II. I shall not contend whether Empedocles, was a good or a bad philosopher, or a good or a bad poet, although he professed both these faculties; neither shall I dispute, whether he was so ostentatious, as always to appear in public cloathed in purple, with a crown of gold upon his head; or so vain, as to aspire at being honoured as a divinity, but I shall confine myself, to examining whether he was so franticly ambitious, as to throw himself privately into the flames of Mount Ætna, to avoid his body being found, in order to make the world believe, that he had been carried alive up to Heaven; to the end, that he might afterwards be worshiped as a deity. This circumstance, is positively asserted in many books; and Empedocles from thence, came to be quoted, as an instance of the extravagance of the heathen philosophers; and upon all occasions, when people in conversation discoursed upon morality, it was introduced as an argument of the foolish ambition of mortals, which they conclude is a frailty annexed to our nature, and that it corresponds with the suggestion contained in the expression of the old serpent to our first parents, You shall be treated as if ye were gods. This information is taken from the writings of the most ancient Greek authors, such as Hippobotus, Diodorus of Ephesus, &c. and from them it has been diffused into the works of the Greeks and Latins. What we find in Horace upon the subject is very trivial:

III. One of the elemental rules of Criticism, is, that when with respect to any fact, we meet with different historical opinions, to abide by that which is the least improbable; or where the circumstances of probability are equal, to adopt that opinion which is supported by the best authority. But I see this rule, which is clearly dictated by the light of nature, frequently abandoned, and to such a degree, that some writers seem as if they took pains to pursue a contrary method; which most likely proceeds, from the improbable being nearly allied to the marvellous, which, although it is not so well calculated to establish or persuade our assent to a fact, gives lustre to the relation, and authors are generally fonder of ostentation than of truth.

IV. There is an instance of this, in the subject we are treating of. It is true, that Hippobotus, and Diodorus of Ephesus, give the account we have mentioned of the death of Empedocles; but there are three other writers, whom I look upon to be of equal authority, and who are more ancient; to wit, Timeus, Neanthes of Cyzicus, and Demetrius Trezenius, who all give other, and different accounts of the manner in which he died, that are beyond comparison more probable than those given by the first two. Why then should not these be believed before those other two, the improbability of whose relations stares you full in the face? Consider Empedocles on the margin of the volcano, with that ocean of fire presenting itself to his sight, and a horrible death to his imagination. Is it credible, that in such a situation, he, for an ideal felicity, which could not be termed more than imaginary; I say, is it credible, that a reasonable entity, who well knew that after his death he could not be sensible of any enjoyment to be derived from a mistaken notion of mankind, should, for such a chimera, precipitate himself into that abyss of sulphur and flame? I will venture to pronounce that he could not.

V. But let us proceed. Admitting that any man could be absurd enough to suppose such a thing probable, who was a witness of the fact? Why, nobody; for this must be taken for granted; and they say, is to be inferred from the circumstances of his disappearance, for that with the most diligent search that could be made, they could never find his body: others contradict this relation; and Timeus, so far from admitting that he died in Sicily, or in the neighbourhood of Mount Ætna, says, that he passed over to Peloponnesus, and died there. But allowing, that he died in Sicily, and taking for granted, the circumstance of their being unable to find his dead body, could not this have disappeared, without being plunged into the gulph of Mount Ætna? Terenius says, that being grown very old, as he was walking along a cliff on the sea coast, as it was customary for him to do, his foot slipped, and he fell into the water, and was drowned; and that his body was never found afterwards; which is a much more probable account of its disappearance than the other.

VI. I may be told, this could not be so, because manifest tokens were found of his having thrown himself into the abyss of Mount Ætna. The principal of these tokens was, that a little while afterwards, one of his shoes, by the emission of the flame, was thrown out of the volcano; so Hippobotus tells us; but this is a glaringly fabulous tale; although it should be affirmed by five hundred Hippobotuses. The flame of Ætna, which the hardness of marble is unable to resist, had such a respect for the shoe of Empedocles, as to leave it unsinged? But they say it was made of metal, which is a subterfuge, that besides being ridiculous, is of no avail in the case; for admitting that that philosopher, either to appear particular and different from other men, or from some other vain motive, should have been so extravagant as to wear metal shoes; would this have indemnified them from being consumed by the voracious flame of the volcano? By no means, for it is well known, that the powerful activity of its heat, in an instant, dissolves the hardest of metals. In the amazing and terrifying vomit of lava, which it emitted in the year 1665, it cast up such a quantity of liquid metal, that it ran down in a river of fire, till it nearly approached the city of Catania. And among other experiments that were made to try the intense heat of that melted metal, was contriving to introduce a sword blade into it, which as far as it was immersed, instantly became liquid.

VII. A joke, which Father Dechales tells of a Spaniard, concerning Mount Ætna, seems so applicable to this matter, that I think it will not be amiss to relate it. He had considered, that volcanos had subsisted a great many ages, and that there was no metal except gold, which fire would not consume, and concluded from thence, that all the metal which boiled in the Volcano must be gold. Filled with this conceit, he persuaded himself that he had found out an easy method of acquiring immense riches, which he proposed to do by the following invention. He got a strong iron kettle made, to the handle of which, he fastened a long iron chain, and by that, he let the kettle down till it reached the metal, and hoped by dipping it in, to draw up a large quantity of liquid gold. But what followed? Why, that the moment the kettle entered the burning mass, both that, and a part of the chain were melted, and the poor Spaniard was left with the other part of the chain in his hand, which he was obliged to draw up with the loss of the lower end, and his kettle. So powerful and active is the heat of that burning metal. Thus it would have been better for Hippobotus, to have feigned the shoes of Empedocles to have been made of Salamanders hairs, which it is said can never be consumed by fire.

VIII. The vulgar opinion has represented this philosopher, as a poor madman, and an extravagant buffoon, who passed his whole life in continual bursts of laughter, and who by laughing at every thing, had made himself the laughing-stock and derision of all mankind; and the conclusion drawn from thence has been, that he was not less ignorant than ridiculous. But notwithstanding this opinion has been so generally adopted, it is easy to demonstrate, that Democritus in reality, was one of the most thinking and enlightened men of antiquity. A proof of which, was his application to study, his manner of living, the estimation he was held in by his countrymen, and his vast learning and wisdom. All that we are about to urge in his defence, is taken from the authorities of Diogenes Laertius, Athenæus, Valerius Maximus, Cicero, and other writers of eminence.

IX. His application to study was such, that he lived in an almost continued state of seclusion from the world. He hardly ever stirred out of his house; nor within it, did he scarce allow himself any respite from his labours, but remained almost always shut up in his study, reading, meditating, and writing. His ardent desire for acquiring more and more lights and information, induced him to leave for a long time, not only his retirement, but his country also, and to travel into distant nations, in order to consult the learned men of Egypt, Persia, and Chaldea; and as some say, even went to consult those of Ethiopia, and India likewise. He expended in these peregrinations, all that he inherited from his father, which amounted to a hundred talents. At his return to his own country, he was accused before the magistrates, as a dissipater of his paternal inheritance; which in that country, was looked upon as a serious offence, and was punished, by depriving the spendthrift of being buried with his ancestors, as an unworthy descendant of his family. The method Democritus took to justify himself, was very singular. He produced to his judges, the best book he had written, which was intitled, The Great Diacosmus, and read to them a large portion of it, and pleaded, that the knowledge contained in that book, was the fruit of his travels, and that he had expended his paternal inheritance in acquiring it. The magistrates were astonished at the profundity of the learning contained in the book, and determined, that his money had been well expended in making the acquisition; and not only acquitted Democritus of the charge that had been brought against him, but adjudged that he should be rewarded with five hundred talents, to be paid out of the public treasury, and adjudged further, that statues should be erected to him as a most excellent man. Let any one now consider, whether it is probable, that his country should pay such honourable attention to a person, who was a ridiculous fellow, and a buffoon? to say nothing of his being looked upon as a half madman, who every moment of his life, was scoffing at his judges, his country, and all mankind.

X. The great application of Democritus, accompanied with his vast and subtil genius, begot such a high opinion of the extent of his learning, that no man was considered as his equal in that respect in the age in which he lived; for at the same time that the philosophers of those days, extended their studies and enquiries, no further than to the contemplation of physics, ethics, and metaphysics; Democritus added to these three faculties, medicine, botany, geometry, arithmetic, music, astronomy, poetry, painting, and the knowledge of languages. All which, may be inferred from the catalogues of his works, to be found in Diogenes Laertius.

XI. I ask now, whether the circumstances we have enumerated with respect to Democritus, bespeak him to be a ridiculous buffoon? or whether they may not rather be termed descriptive of a grave, serious, contemplative man, of much superior lights to the generality of mankind?

XII. I confess, that the laughter of Democritus has been a proverb in the world, which has been commonly used to express laughter to excess; although the proverb took its rise from the accounts some ancient authors have given of this philosopher. But notwithstanding this, I will venture to assert, the laughter of Democritus, which has been so much talked of, did not exceed the bounds, which should circumscribe the gravity of philosophy.

XIII. In order to demonstrate this, we should premise, that all the ills to which man is exposed, may be said to spring from three sources, which are those of malice, misfortune, and ignorance, or want of information. These three evils, to those who rationally contemplate them, will appear to excite naturally, three distinct affections. That is to say, malice, to be productive of indignation; misfortune, grief; and ignorance, laughter. According then to whichever of these causes we consider the evil to spring, we should suppose it to excite an affection correspondent to that cause; and from hence, arises the great characteristic difference of affections, which has been remarked to predominate between the two antagonist philosophers, Heraclitus, and Democritus. Heraclitus, is described to have been weeping and sad, and to the same excess, that Democritus is said to have been laughing and cheerful. That is, these tokens of the characters of the two men, were supposed to be produced, in the first by his sensitive feelings, and in the second by his follies. This is the common opinion; but I for myself believe, that the fault of Heraclitus, was rather the offspring of indignation than compassion; and that he did not consider the evils of mankind, to proceed so much from their misfortunes, as from their malice. This is apparent, from his three letters to his friend Hermodorus, which are the only fragments that have been handed down to us of his writings: what he says there, when he is speaking of the bad government and depraved manners of Ephesus, which was his own country; does not favour the least of compassion; for the whole context, breathes nothing but indignation and resentment. By the same letters we may perceive, that he was presumptuous in extreme, and also arrogant, proud, and a contemner of the rest of mankind. How does this correspond with the soft, and compassionate disposition, that is attributed to him? Finally, it is a fact well established, that from his disgust to, and loathing of mankind, he retired from the world, to lead a solitary life in the mountains. All this, bespeaks a man of a perverse, unsociable, and gloomy genius, and proves, that Heraclitus deserved the character that had been given of him by Timon of Athens, which was that of a Misanthrope; and means, that he was an enemy to, or an abhorrer of mankind.

XIV. But whether Heraclitus was generally crying or lamenting, as is commonly thought; or agreeable to my opinion of him, was continually growling and snarling, it amounts to the same thing, for the use I propose to make of the premises, which is to manifest, that Heraclitus and Democritus, were excited by distinct affections, because their attentions, were confined to distinct objects; and without entering into, whether the lamentation, or indignation, whichever it shall be thought fit to call it, of Heraclitus, whose apology I am not writing, was justifiable, I maintain, that the laughter of Democritus was reasonable, and not extravagant. Democritus viewed men on their ridiculous side, and contemplated their absurdities, their follies, their ill-grounded presumptions, their vain desires, and their useless occupations, all of them, as objects worthy to be laughed at; for as Aristotle says, all turpitude that does not occasion sadness, is laughable and ridiculous, turpitudo sine dolore. The follies and vanities of man being then a sort of turpitudes, which do not produce grief in him, but rather tend to make him contented and happy in himself; are objects worthy to be laughed at.

XV. Yes. But laughter, although it may be directed to a proper object, may be carried to excess; and perhaps this was the fault that was reprehended in Democritus. To this I answer, that the accusation, even considered in this sense, is founded on a mere equivocation. The laughter of Democritus, which has been so largely cried out against, did not favour so much of a habit, as of a dogma; and ought more properly to be considered as applying to an object, than looked upon as a distinct act. This philosopher was distinguished from the rest, not because he laughed more than all the others, but for placing his especial attention on the absurdities of mankind; and the singular maxim, that human things tended more to excite laughter, than indignation or compassion, made a principal part of his moral doctrine. It was easy to imagine, that a philosopher must be much addicted to laugh, who philosophized in this way; and from conceiving him much inclined to laugh, it was easy also for them to proceed to supposing that he was laughing every minute; but his solitary disposition, and retired life, afford an efficacious proof to the contrary. Who ever knew a man that was much inclined to retirement, who was of a very laughable disposition? These two things, seem absolutely incompatible with each other. He who has a great propensity to laughing, seeks occasions to gratify that inclination, and these are to be found in the company of other men, and not in solitude.

XVI. From a story that is related of him by Lucian, I am persuaded, that Democritus was more disposed to be serious than jolly. He was used to say, that all the stories of spectres, phantoms, and apparitions, were fabulous and ridiculous; and certain young fellows, to try whether these were his real sentiments, or else with a view of making him alter them, entered his room in the dead of night, with frightful masks on their faces, and habited in the garb of devils, to which terrible appearances, they added horrible shrieks and cries, accompanied by terrifying gestures. Democritus, who was writing when they entered his room, far from seeming surprized, without lifting the pen from his paper, and without even deigning to pay any attention to them, in a severe tone bid them hold their noise, or else go and make it in some other place, and without articulating another word, he betook himself again to his writing. What, if Democritus had been of a risible disposition, could have been more likely than such a scene to have excited him to laughter; for he well knew the appearances were all feigned, and a jocose derision would have been the best rebuke he could have given them for such an attempt. Finally, that spectacle afforded abundant matter proper to excite laughter, for it might truly be called turpitude, unattended by sadness. Why then did not Democritus laugh? Why did he not scoff at, and treat them with jocose contempt? Why without doubt, because he was not of a bantering, or laughable disposition.

XVII. I will not dispute, that Democritus might sometimes affect to laugh, in order to open a door, for the introduction of his animadversions on the absurdities of mankind; but affected laughter is not incompatible with, nor does it tend to annihilate serious truth. I will also admit, that at sometimes when he laughed in earnest, his laughter might border on the extravagant. Democritus considered many of the actions of men as ridiculous, which others regarded as reasonable, and considered as foolish, many, which others looked upon as discreet: Democritus would laugh at such, and other men who did not discern like him the absurdity of the things he laughed at, might look upon him as a ridiculous man for so doing.

XVIII. In the first discourse of our first volume, we made mention of three letters of Hippocrates, which gave a relation of his having been sent for by the Abdarites, to cure their country-man Democritus, who, on account of his bursting into fits of impertinent and unmeaning laughter, they concluded was mad. In those letters, there is also a relation given of Hippocrates’s visit to him, and of the conversation that passed between Hippocrates and Democritus at that visit, and the result of the interview between them; which was, that Hippocrates esteemed him ever afterwards, as a man supremely wise and learned. This might serve as a confirmation of all we have said respecting Democritus; but as I am a lover of truth, I will not scruple to acknowledge, that since my writing of that discourse, I have come to understand, that there are many critics, who are inclined to think those letters are supposititious; and therefore I will not pretend to avail myself of them further, than as of a testimony, whose authenticity may be disputed.

XIX. But I must beg leave to remark one thing; which is, that in the beforementioned discourse, there is an expression of mine, which may be construed to imply, that I thought the laughter of Democritus inclining to the excessive; but to avoid being accused of falling into contradictions, I thought it necessary to repeat here, an observation I have made upon other occasions; which is, that I am not accustomed to express my particular opinion upon any matter, respecting which I think differently from the vulgar, unless it is when I treat expressly of that matter; but when I touch upon a thing incidentally, it is a rule with me, to fall in with the common opinion concerning that thing. This is a method I found absolutely necessary to adopt, in order to avoid interrupting the thread of my discourse, and incumbering it with foreign matter and new questions.

XX. They have set up another story against Democritus, which, if there was any foundation for, would more effectually prove his want of understanding, than all the bursts of laughter that have been imputed to him. Many authors, and among them Aulus Gellius, relate, that Democritus having considered, that the sight of many sensible objects diverts the understanding from contemplating natural things with proper attention, put out both his eyes, to qualify himself for reflecting upon them with greater profundity, and more intensely. I will readily acknowledge, that such a resolution, could only be taken by a man of a depraved understanding. Illud quidem falso jactatum est de Democrito, quod sponte sibi ademerit oculos, &c. (Lib. de Curiosit.) What necessity was there, in order to remove the impediment arising from sensible objects, for his putting out both his eyes? Would not shutting himself in a dark room, whenever he was disposed to study, have answered the same purpose. The poet Laberius, who takes the thing for granted, assigns another reason for his blinding himself. He says, that Democritus put out both his eyes, to avoid seeing the prosperity of bad men; as if he could not as well have enjoyed this satisfaction, by retiring from all commerce or intercourse with the world; besides, a man’s blinding himself for such a reason, argues a sour, morose, and furious disposition, instead of a pleasant and chearful one, which Democritus was said to possess. Nor is what Tertullian advances more probable, who says, he blinded himself because he could not bear to look at women without emotions of incontinence, nor without being vexed if it happened he could not enjoy them. Nothing could be more foreign than this to the genius of Democritus, of whom it is an established fact, that he was always averse to matrimony. Such fables can be but feebly supported, when the truth is enquired into and sought after with attention.

XXI. This philosopher flourished in the times, in which the fire of emulation began to burn among the masters and disciples of the various schools of philosophy, who mutually waged war against each other, by making false interpretations of the doctrines that each maintained, and by raising false accusations against one another’s customs and manners. In the first place, many look upon Aristotle as a notorious calumniator; but in the second place, they remark that he was amply repaid in his own coin, for that he was egregiously calumniated himself. I find more appearances of malice in the calumnies raised against Epicurus, than in those raised against any of the other philosophers. Epicurus placed extreme felicity in enjoyment; which was an equivocal doctrine, for, considered in a latitudinary sense, it might be construed to mean both honest and criminal enjoyments. The vulgar, when they hear the word enjoyment, are apt to impute an evil signification to it, because, agreeable to their gross ideas, they hardly consider any other things as enjoyments, but unbounded indulgences, in incontinence and debauchery; or they at least, are inclined to consider these as the greatest of all enjoyments. This gross construction of his doctrines by the vulgar, gave encouragement to his rivals to stigmatize his tenets, and to accuse him, of placing all happiness in sensuality and gluttony. It was an easy matter, to transfer the accusation against his doctrines, to militate against his customs and manners; because it being evident, that all men have an innate desire to make themselves happy; consequently, Epicurus must be understood studiously to recommend those objects to them, in which he thought happiness to consist. By attributing to him then this perverse dogma, the inference drawn from it was, that he led a life which corresponded with the tenet; that is, that it was all spent in lewdness, gluttony, and drunkenness.

XXII. Besides the before-mentioned cause, there were two others, that concurred to blacken the fame of Epicurus. The first was, his erroneous and impious opinion with respect to the Deity; for he held, that it consisted of a multiplicity of gods, which he maintained were indolent, unable to do, and having no power of doing, either good or harm to any one; and were without providence, without activity, and without influence; and although he acknowledged they had a right to be worshiped, he attributed the obligation we are under of paying them adoration, to be due to the excellence of their nature, intirely distinct, and separate from all dependence we have on them, or gratitude that we owe to them; and that the obsequies we pay them, should be like the respect we pay to a nobleman, on whom we have no dependence, and from whose favour we entertain no expectations; and which we consider, as a thing due to his quality. I grant, that this afforded a powerful motive for entertaining a bad opinion, both of the moral doctrine, and the manners of Epicurus; for if you take away the fear of punishment, and the hope of reward from mankind, you can found but little expectation, that they will esteem, or practise virtue.

XXIII. The second cause which tended to discredit Epicurus, was the loose manner in which some of his followers lived; who, by perverting the doctrine of their master, and construing it to favour their vicious inclinations, persuaded many people, that Epicurus had taught what they asserted he had taught, and that he had lived as they did.

XXIV. Notwithstanding all these prejudices against him, the cause of Epicurus was not looked upon as so hopeless and forlorn, as to deter some authors of eminence from undertaking his defence, which they did with good success. Among these, we see stand forth in the foremost ranks, our famous Don Francisco de Quevedo, who, from the clear testimonies of many enlightened men of antiquity, proves in the first place, that Epicurus did not place happiness in corporeal, but in spiritual enjoyments; and secondly, that this philosopher, so far from being given to gluttony, was very sparing in his diet, both with respect to his meat and his drink, living for the most part upon bread, water, cheese, and the produce of his own garden; and thirdly, that he lived chastly, and abstained from venereal indulgencies. As the works of Quevedo are almost in the hands of every body, I shall omit a repetition of the testimonies he produces in favour of Epicurus. But to those he mentions, I shall add two others of great weight, which he has not taken notice of. The first is, that of St. Gregory Nazianzenus, who in his Iambics, applauds highly, both the moral doctrine, and the life of Epicurus. These are his words:

In English:

XXV. The authority of this father, is of great weight in this matter, because he studied in Athens, where Epicurus had fixed his habitation and his school; and therefore it is probable, had an opportunity of obtaining some authentic testimonies, both of his doctrine and manner of living. This should mollify, or abate the force of the objection that is made to Epicurus, by reason of the terms of contempt and reproach, in which Saint Austin, Saint Ambrosius, and Saint Isidorus speak of him; who having always lived at a great distance from Athens, may have given this account of him, upon the credit of uncertain memoirs; and might possibly have been induced to think, that some things were the productions of Epicurus, which were falsely attributed to him by Diotimus, who was a Stoic philosopher, and his declared enemy.

XXVI. The second testimony which Quevedo has omitted to mention, is that of the philosopher Chrysipus, who was contemporary with, and an avowed enemy and rival of Epicurus, and as such, should be believed with respect to every thing he testifies in his favour. Chrysipus then, as quoted by Stobæus, admits that Epicurus was endowed with chastity, although he malignantly insinuates, that it proceeded from a cause, that was an opprobrium to his character, for he attributes it, to his insensibility or stupidity. These two philosophers, lived in Athens at one and the same time; and as his neighbour and his rival, Chrysipus could not have been ignorant of the vices of Epicurus; and if he had been lascivious, it is very clear, that he would not have allowed he was continent. As he could not then deny he was chaste, he gives his malice another turn, and says, that his continence was not the effect of his virtue, but of his stupidity.

XXVII. Finally, I shall urge against the calumniators of Epicurus, an argument, that appears to me of great weight and efficacy: Diogenes Laertius relates, that the writings of Epicurus were innumerable; and that there was no author of antiquity, who had compiled such a multitude of books. Scripsit autem Epicurus infinita volumina, adeo ut illorum multitudine cunctos superaverit. (Diog. Laert. lib. 10.) Let any man now who is the most prejudiced against Epicurus, tell me whether it is likely, that a man who placed his whole happiness in corporeal gratifications and enjoyments, and must consequently have given himself up to gluttony, drunkenness, and lust, could possibly have written so many books. It is plain and evident that he could not; because his debaucheries would have prevented him for the greatest part of his time, from being able to pursue his studies, and from taking pen in hand, and must at last, have come to incapacitate him totally, as such debaucheries commonly do those, who lead that brutal kind of life.

XXVIII. There remains something still for us to reply to, that has been advanced on the three beforementioned heads, which are the articles, on which the calumniators of Epicurus, principally ground their accusations against him. The first thing he is charged with, is easily answered, because it is generally allowed, that Epicurus lived sparingly, and was sober and continent; from whence it may be evidently inferred, that he could not place his whole happiness, in the delights of gluttony and sensuality. He wished to be happy; which is a desire, that from invincible necessity, attends every man; and consequently, if he had thought happiness consisted in corporeal enjoyments, he would industriously have fought after and embraced them. But let us delineate this matter, with greater nicety and exactness.

XXIX. There are two things to be considered in the doctrine of Epicurus; the one certain, the other questionable: the certain one is, what species of enjoyment it was, in which he thought happiness consisted. With regard to the first of these points, so far was he from falling in with, or adopting gross ideas, that it was always remarked, he expressed himself with more delicacy and propriety, and also more philosophically, than any of the philosophers of Paganism; some of whom make happiness to consist in riches, others in dominion, others in honours, others in health, others in fame, &c. Generally, if you attend to them, besides their erring in fundamentals, they reason with great impropriety, because they sometimes mistake for happiness, the object that produced it; and at others, the instrument that procured it. Epicurus, explains the matter in a direct way, and agreeable to the nature and essence of the thing itself, and not by its causes. He constitutes happiness, to consist in an act of the soul, and in this, all our most eminent theologians agree with him, and some of them likewise concur with him, with respect to the species of the act; for they, like Epicurus, place formal felicity, in delight, enjoyment, or fruition. This is a sentiment, which although it is not the most approved in the schools, seems to be upheld by those great authorities, Saint Austin, and Saint Thomas. Saint Austin in his first book de Doctrin. Christ. cap. 32, says, that the supreme reward which God bestows, is in the enjoyment of him: Hæc autem merces summa est, ut eo perfruamur; and in his eighth book de Civit. cap. 9. he expresses himself to this effect, that no one can be happy who does not enjoy his beloved object: Nemo beatus est, qui eo quod amat non fruitur. Saint Thomas 1. 2. quæst. 33. art. 3. in corp. distinguishing between the ultimate objective, and formal end of man, says, that the first is God, and the second fruition, or act of enjoying God; in which is included, the delight of possessing the ultimate end, and in this sense it may be said, that enjoyment is the summum bonum of man. Optimum in unaquaque re est ultimus finis. Finis autem, ut supradictum est, dupliciter dicitur, scilicet ipsa res, et usus rei, sicut finis avari est, vel pecunia, vel passio pecuniæ, et secundum hoc ultimus finis hominis dici potest, vel ipse Deus, qui est summum bonum simpliciter, vel fruitio ipsius, quæ importat delectationem quandam in ultimo fine; et per hunc modum aliqua delectatio hominis potest dici optimum inter bona humana.

XXX. Supposing then that Epicurus did not err, in placing all human felicity in enjoyment, all that can be urged against him is, that he mistook in assigning the object of this enjoyment; and I acknowledge that he did err in this particular; but at the same time that I make this acknowledgment, I must beg leave to alledge two things in his favour: the first is, that if he did err, his error was not accompanied with any dishonest design that tended to corrupt the manners of mankind: the second is, that he erred less than any of the other Gentile philosophers. In the first place, besides the testimonies we before produced, of the sobriety and continence of Epicurus, the thing is proved by his own writings. Among the few, which by the diligence of Diogenes Laertius have been rescued from oblivion; is his letter to Meceus, where he expounds his whole moral doctrine, and clearly points out and inculcates, that the enjoyment he means to assign as the constitutive principle of happiness, is that, which results from the blessings of health, bodily ease, and tranquillity of mind; but positively excludes indulgences in forbidden pleasures. The following words of his, which refute the malignant interpretation that has been put upon his doctrine, by his rivals, and many ignorant people, deserve particular attention: Constat igitur, quando voluptatem; beatæ vitæ dicimus finem, non intelligere nos eas voluptates, quæ sunt virorum luxu diffluentium, aut aliorum etiam, quatenus spectantur in ipsa actione fruendi, qua nimirum sensus jucundè, dulciterque afficitur, veluti quiddam ignorantes, aut a nobis dissentientes, aut alioquin adversum nos male affecti interpretantur; sed illud dumtaxat intelligimus, non dolere corpore, ac animo non perturbari. Siquidem non compotationes comessationesque perpetuæ, non ipsa puerorum mulierumque consuetudo, non piscium deliciæ, aut quæcumque aliæ mensæ lautioris cupediæ jucundam vitam pariunt, sed quæ cum sobrietate, sereneque adeo animo, est ratio, causas, cur quid eligendum, fugiendumve sit, investigans, ac opiniones abigens, ob quas plurima mentes occupat perturbatio.

XXXI. This doctrine, does not tend to promote any irregularity whatever in human life, for health of body, and serenity of mind, may very lawfully be wished for by any man; and there are men very spiritually disposed, who positively desire them, and are also solicitous about procuring them. It is however a mistaken notion, to place ultimate, or supreme felicity, in the enjoyment of them; but this is an error, which was common to all the Gentile philosophers, who every one of them, placed it on created objects. I say also, that the error of Epicurus in this respect, was less than that of any of the others, because he was at least right, with regard to the object on which he placed happiness, by speaking of it, as confined to sublunary things; but the other philosophers, did not even hit this nail on the head: for if we contemplate a man possessed of all those advantages, in which they maintained happiness consisted, such as riches, honours, fame, learning, &c. he may notwithstanding his possessing all these, lead a very unhappy and miserable life; because neither of them separately, nor all of them put together, can secure him from a thousand afflictions, that may be brought upon him, by numberless adverse accidents. For, suppose him to be learned, rich, and powerful, to whatever degree you please, none of these, can prevent the death of his esteemed friend; nor the infidelity of his beloved wife; nor can they insure him, that his children shall not turn out stupid or ill-disposed; nor can they shield him, from the stings and mortifications he is exposed to, from the malice of envious people, &c. But by attaining what Epicurus held happiness to consist in, that is health of body, and serenity of mind, a man, let what will happen to him, would at least live free from misery, and so long as he preserves these blessings of bodily health, and a serene state of mind, may be said to be a happy person, because he experiences no affliction, or anxiety.

XXXII. In opposition to this, some may reply, that the tenets of Zeno and the Stoics, who place all happiness in the practice of virtue, should be preferred to those of Epicurus. To which I answer, that this doctrine has a fine sound, but that it is false and ridiculous in the fundamental parts of it. I firmly believe, that the Stoics were the least sincere of all the ancient philosophers. A great critic of recent date, very humorously and properly called them the Pharisees of Paganism. The name of virtue was ever in their mouths, and the virtue they preached up, was of the most austere kind; but notwithstanding this, they in fact were as solicitous to promote their own temporal interests and convenience, as the most worldly of mankind. Seneca, that bright pattern of, and esteemed honour to the Stoic school, at the same time that he rolled in riches, and was living in the highest stile of pomp, and with the greatest profusion of luxury, to say nothing of his usury, vociferated loudly in favour of poverty; which strongly evinces, that the Stoics, without the exception of even Seneca himself, were hypocrites, who did not believe it was possible for any one to practise, the very virtue they had preached up. They would have had a learned and a wise man, arrive at being an insensible one; who while he was suffering the greatest torments, should appear cheerful and serene; and that he should seem no more affected with all the vexations that can be given him by mankind, than the sun seems to be, with the arrows that are discharged against Heaven; or, than the gods are with the blows that are given to their statues. Both the one and the other of these similies, are made use of by Seneca; from whence, it may evidently be inferred, that the virtue he recommended, was not only an ideal, but a chimerical one. The behaviour of Dionysius of Heraclea, shews very plainly, the extravagance of the Stoic philosophy. This philosopher, was for a long while a disciple and a sectary of Zeno’s, during all which time, he enjoyed a good state of health; but became afterwards afflicted with a severe disorder in his eyes, or as some say, in his kidneys; and indeed Cicero mentions them both: and finding that it was impossible under these afflictions, for him to enjoy that calmness and serenity of mind, which was so much recommended by Zeno, he abandoned his master’s school, and gave himself up to all sorts of debauchery.

XXXIII. Virtue is not only good, but even capable of making a man happy, if considered as a means; but contemplated according to the system of the Stoics, as the sum of all happiness, independent of any reward, except what results from itself, it is arduous and toilsome. I suppose that Saint Paul, was full as virtuous a man, as either Seneca or Zeno. And what did he say of virtue, as standing by itself, and considered, without relation to the reward of eternal happiness? Why the very reverse of what was said by those philosophers: Si in hac vita tantùm in Christo sperantes sumus, miserabiliores sumus omnibus hominibus. (1 ad Corinth. 15.) If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable. And why the most miserable? can it be because we are the most virtuous?

XXXIV. The point of religion, is the most tender one in all the doctrine of Epicurus. He admitted that there were gods, but maintained, that they had no hand in the direction, or management of human affairs. I, in truth, can conceive no error more absurd, than that of denying the existence of a deity, except it is, that of admitting there is such a being, and denying his providence. Some suppose that Epicurus, thought differently from what he spoke on this subject; that is, that he did not believe in the Heathen divinities; but, only acknowledged their existence, for fear of being punished if he had done otherwise. But the truth is, that he frequented the temples, and assisted devoutly at the sacrifices, insomuch, that Diogenes Laertius, extols him for his eminent devotion to, and respect for the gods: Sanctitatis quidem in Deos, et charitatis in patriam fuit in eo affectus ineffabilis. I say, some suppose that this was all hypocrisy: it may have been so, but there seems no reason to suspect, that he did not both speak and act with sincerity. For, admitting there have been philosophers, who have denied the existence of any deity, there can be no great difficulty in supposing, that there might be another, who conceived the existence of such a sort of deity only, as was idle and inactive, and who was a titular or honorary being, that was happy in himself, and divested of all care. The conceptions of men, are exceedingly strange and various; of which truth, we have an instance in Pliny the elder. This great man, who was sufficiently enlightened to be convinced, that the gods the Gentiles worshiped, were fabulous; and to be fully satisfied, that if there was a God, it must be one only God: yet, notwithstanding all this, he fell into the same error that Epicurus did; for, he said positively, that in case there was such a deity, he never interfered either little or much, with human affairs; and asserted, that it was ridiculous for any man to suppose he did: Irridendum verò agere curam verum humanarum illud quid quid est summum. But what is more, he looked upon this neglect of the government of the world, not as a defect, but as an excellence, precisely appertaining to the deity; and declared, that the admitting of his providence, was a degradation of his dignity: Anne tam tristi, multiplicique ministerio non pollui credamus, dubitemusve? If then one of the greatest men of antiquity, which Pliny unquestionably was, conceived inaction to be a perfection necessarily belonging to the deity, why should we be surprized that Epicurus adopted the same error? He, let this proceed from what principle it would, either the extravagance of his imagination, or artifice to disguise what the Athenians held to be impiety, lived unmolested in Athens, nor was there ever any prosecution instituted against him in that city, on the score of religion. If Diagoras had conducted himself in the same manner, he might have vented his furious choler, without danger of the Athenians pursuing him with fire and sword, and setting a price upon his head by proclamation; but this philosopher having continued for the greatest part of his life, superstitiously devoted to the gods, when he was advanced in years, all of a sudden turned Atheist; and his motive for doing this, was one of the most ridiculous in the world. Diagoras, was both a philosopher and a poet; and it happened, that one of the same profession, had purloined from Diagoras, certain verses which he had composed; for this, he convened him before the judges to answer for the plagiary; where the accused person was examined upon oath; and he swore falsely, that the verses were of his own composing. Diagoras could produce no witnesses to prove the fact against him, so the man was acquitted, and afterwards published the verses as his own, receiving the applauses for them, which were properly due to Diagoras; whose indignation was so inflamed at this, that it in a manner turned his head; and he, in the fulness of his wrath, began to write against the Grecian deities; and to publish to the world, that it was the most foolish thing imaginable, to suppose that there were gods; for if such beings had existed, they, instead of suffering the man who had injured him, to be crowned with unjust applause, would either not have permitted, or else would have punished his insolence. I say, that Diagoras, by adopting the theological system of Epicurus, might have vented his anger without endangering his head; as for the purpose of letting wickedness go unpunished, and reign triumphant in the world, the want of providence in the deity, would have the same effect, as the actual want of a deity, and the Athenians would have winked at that blasphemy, as they did at the blasphemy of Epicurus.

XXXV. But what is most to the point, will be to examine whether the theological error of Epicurus tended to produce any consequences, that might promote the disorderly life, which his rivals attribute, and which is vulgarly imputed to him. I confess, that he who would say of a man, who denies the existence of a deity, or if he admits of his existence, denies his providence, that he is a person of perverse manners, would generally be right in his judgment with regard to the facts, but would mistake in point of the propriety of his decision, if he only considered the error as the necessary consequence of an erroneous dogma. The reason is, because there are men who are without vices, only because they are without passions; and temperament has the same effect with them, that virtue has with other people. Vice necessarily supposes a man to be actuated by a depraved inclination, and the desires depend on the complexion of the individual. Thus he who is naturally of a very placid disposition, seldom shews any inclination to run into the excesses, of either gluttony, or lust, and whether he believed there was, or was not a God, and that if there was, he would not punish those excesses, he would still be temperate and chaste. I say the same of all other vices, and vicious passions. In reality, an atheist of good customs and manners, if he is a monster, is a monster we have sometimes seen. Pliny doubted whether there was a Deity, or if he did not doubt it, disbelieved his Providence; but with all this, nobody could cast the least imputation on his customs or manners; for he was temperate, sincere, and a lover of justice; and his writings are full of invectives against vice, which are expressed with such force and energy, that we can hardly doubt of their coming from his heart. To sum up the whole, two of the best emperors that were known in Rome in the days of paganism, Titus, and Vespasian, esteemed him much, and always confided to him most important employments. The famous atheist of these latter times, Benito Spinosa, always led a retired life, and kept himself constantly employed, either in study, or making telescopes and microscopes, and was a sober, continent, and pacific man. There were strong suspicions of atheism, against the Englishman Thomas Hobbes, but he never was accused of being addicted to any vice. Then why might not Epicurus, notwithstanding his mistaken faith, have lived exempt from the vices, of which he has been vulgarly accused? and this being not improbable, why should not we believe he did so, upon the credit of the many and grave testimonies that have been exhibited in his favour? If to this it should be replied, that the lives of atheists were made up of mere appearances, and deceptions, to escape either infamy or punishment; I answer, that for my purpose, this is sufficient, for that I never meant to insist, that Epicurus was a man truly virtuous, but only to shew, that what had been said of the turpitude of his moral doctrines, and of his gluttonies, and obscenities, was false and groundless.

XXXVI. The last presumptive charge against Epicurus, which is founded upon the dissolute lives of some of his sectaries, is totally contemptible. The argument urged against Epicurus, that some of the debauched pupils of his school interpreted his doctrines in favour of vice, is like that which is brought against the catholic church, on account of some introducers of novelties, having misunderstood or misinterpreted the gospel. There were two sorts of Epicureans known to antiquity, one of which were termed the rigid, and the others the relaxed ones. These last, were considered as the heretics of Epicurianism, and as deserters of the doctrine of Epicurus, although they retained the name of his sectaries. The authority of Cicero seems strongly to confirm this sentiment, who (lib. 2. de Finibus) says; Ac mihi quidem quod et ipse (Epicurus) bonus vir fuit, et multi Epicurei fuerunt, et hodie sunt, et amicitiis fideles, et in omni vita constantes, et graves, nec voluptate, sed consilio consilia moderantes, hoc videtur major vis honestatis, et minor voluptatis. If Epicurus then, was a good and an honest man, why should not those who under the name of his sectaries, led scandalous lives, be rejected as bastard Epicureans? And if among those who were called his sectaries, there were many good men, although there were many bad ones likewise; which of these should we esteem as the true and sincere expounders of the doctrine of Epicurus? ought it to be the first, or the last?

XXXVII. Pliny makes but a poor figure, in the eye of the inferior class of literary people, who look upon him as no better than an artful impostor, that filled his natural history with improbable tales. This has been occasioned principally, by some authors who are a kind of secret-mongers, and who deal in the marvellous, and have, in order to give a sanction to their writings, quoted the authority of Pliny, to justify many of the wonderful tales they relate; but these have not only quoted Pliny for what he never said, but have also had the effrontery to make use of his name, to patronize stories which he point-blank contemns and reprobates. Pliny frequently makes mention of the wonderful secrets, or strange operations of magic, but he always does it with derision and contempt; and treats the authors of them as mountebanks and impostors. I have always said, and I won’t retract my assertion; that you will not find in all Pliny, mention made of any secret of the portentous kind (and he relates many of that sort) which he does not reprobate as a ridiculous tale, and an absurd fiction, generally invented by those who call themselves magicians. Now what is the practice of the dealers in these kinds of secrets? Why they say, that they extracted the relations they give of them from the works of Pliny, but fraudulently conceal that Pliny, made a joke of them. How many silly people have been led to imagine, that there are those that can make themselves invisible whenever they please, and that the great secret of doing this, consists in carrying about them, what they call the sun-flower-stone, together with the plant that bears the same name. This wonderful receipt, may be seen in Pliny (lib. 37. cap. 10.) but you will also find there annexed to it, by Pliny, the strongest censure that can be expressed; for he says, that an extravagance of this kind is a clear proof, of the assurance and want of modesty in those who are called magicians, and shews plainly, to what a degree they are capable of lying. Magorum impudentiæ, vel manifestissimum in hos quosque, (that is the sun-flower-stone) exemplum est. He expresses himself to the same effect, in every other part of his writings where he speaks of magicians. In his thirtieth book, cap. 1. in one short sentence only, he condemns the whole farago of magical operations, and calls magic the most deceitful and fallacious of all arts, fraudulentissima artium.

XXXVIII. Even of the lesser sort of secrets, which do not border upon the incredible, such as medicinal ones commonly are, he speaks with so much circumspection, that he scarce ever says any thing affirmatively respecting them. He always, or nearly always, speaks doubtfully of them, and uses the terms, it is so said, or it is so believed; dicunt, tradunt, &c. and very often, he names the author who makes mention of them.

XXXIX. But as those are very few who know Pliny in his own works, and only see the miserable extracts that are made from them by puffing crafty people, they are led from thence to conclude, that Pliny was the author of all the ridiculous fictions that are imputed to him, by which means, this great writer has incurred the vulgar ignominious note, of being a man of little veracity, and one who could not be depended on.

XL. The worst is, (and although I could wish to conceal it, the sacred reverence due to truth obliges me to declare it) that not only secret-mongers, and mountebank puffers, have brought Pliny into this disesteem, but even authors of a very different character, have greatly contributed to discredit him. In how many philosophical writings, in how many printed sermons, and in how many moral and mystical essays, have we seen Pliny quoted as the legitimate author, of this or that fabulous tale? I am willing to believe, that the greatest part of them quote him, without the least design of injuring his fame, and relate what they say, from the quotations of others. But God defend us from a little preacher of bagatelles, having it in his power to bring Pliny into contempt, because some things which improperly go under his name, apply aptly as similies, or allusions to his chimeras; I say God defend us in such cases, that he, by quoting Pliny, should be enabled to shelter himself under his authority, as if the things he mentions came immediately from him!

XLI. Another cause of the discredit of Pliny, is the multitude of natural prodigies, which are for the most part false, that we find related in his history, especially those of monsters of a strange appearance, such as pigmies, men without heads, and with their eyes in their shoulders; others with canine or dogs heads; others again, who had only one eye, that was placed in the middle of their foreheads; others, with their feet turned backwards; others with two pupils to each eye; others, with feet so large, that they were capable of shading their whole bodies; others, who see better by night than by day; and of whole nations of Hermaphrodites; of a people, who support themselves wholly by smelling to perfumes; and of another people, where all the individuals are witches and wizards, &c. But as the Europeans of late years, have penetrated into, and explored nearly all the provinces of the world, but have found none of these species of monsters, some have suspected that they were all the children of Pliny’s brain, and others have been led to think, that Pliny had been indiscreet enough to believe them, upon the relations of lying travellers.

XLII. It is possible to refute, both the one and the other of these calumnies, and to support the refutation by good evidence. In the first place, Pliny subjoins to every one of these stories, the author from whom he took it. Secondly, prior to his giving the account of the multitude of prodigies he relates, he protests that he does not pledge himself as a voucher for the truth of them; and immediately refers the reader to the works of the authors from whence they were taken, that by examining them, he may have an opportunity of informing himself more fully, respecting any doubts he may entertain of them; Nec tamen ego in plerisque eorum obstringam fidem meam, potiusque ad auctores relegabo, qui dubiis reddentur omnibus.

XLIII. By way of summing up the defence of Pliny, we shall here recite the opinion, which some very learned men, and critics of the first note, have entertained, both of him and his natural history. Celius Rhodiginius, calls Pliny a most learned man, and adds, that none but unlearned ones, disrelish his writings. Gerard John Vossius, calls his history a great work, and one that can never be sufficiently applauded. Joseph Scaliger, pronounces that the natural history of Pliny, on account of its being so great and excellent, is not relished by vulgar understandings; Lansius, gives it the title of the Library of Nature; and Angelo Politianus, illustrates it with the epithet of a collection of all memorable things, and calls the author, the supreme judge of ingenuity, and a most acute, discreet, and admirable censor. The Jesuit Drexelius, proclaims him the most noble panegyrist of nature, and a man of prodigious erudition; and says in another place, that he is a most perspicuous scrutinizer, and delineator of nature. Justus Lipsius says, that there was nothing which Pliny had not read, and which he did not understand, and that his writings comprehended all the learning of the Greeks and Romans put together. The two eulogiums which remain for us to mention, apply more directly and immediately to the subject of this apology than any of the others. The first is that of Gulielmus Budeus, who gives him the attribute, of a man of the strictest veracity, for this is the true meaning of the expression Budeus makes use of, which is, veritatis antistes. Thomas Dempster bestows on him the epithets, of a most diligent and eloquent writer, and a man of incomparable veracity; and finally pronounces, that his writings were of more value, than those of all the other antient authors put together. Unus omnium instar. More cannot be said.

XLIV. I have always wondered, that the enlightened Doctor Gabriel Naudæus, should have taken no notice in his learned book, intituled, An apology for great men who have been suspected of magic, of Lucius Apuleius, against whom, the suspicions of magic are much more vulgarized, and with a better foundation of reason, than they are against many others he has mentioned. But let that omission have proceeded from what cause it will, we will at present endeavour to supply the defect, so that this essay may in some sense, be stiled an addition to Naudæus’s book.

XLV. The rumour of Apuleius being a magician, which began in his life-time, and was propagated after his death, is still preserved in the annals of vulgar literature. It is certain, that Apuleius was accused in form of the crime of magic, before Claudius Maximus, the proconsul of Africa; and also, that he acted as his own council and advocate through the whole course of the prosecution; and being a learned and eloquent man, defended himself admirably. This process, was instituted before a Gentile tribunal, where the judge, the culprit, and the accusers, were all pagans. After the death of Apuleius, the Gentiles spread the report of his magic, and the fame of it insinuated itself secretly and by degrees, among the Christians; by whom the tale has since been propagated in books of vulgar literature; but has never gained credit with learned men; who did not adopt the error, upon the assertions of ordinary writers; although there is nothing surprizes me more, than the learned Louis Vives, having made no scruple to affirm (In lib. 18. de Civit. cap. 18.) that the magic of Apuleius, was a certain, and well established fact.

XLVI. Apuleius was a native of Africa, and studied first in Carthage, afterwards in Athens; and last of all in Rome. He was a man of great ingenuity, and made large advances in a little time; so that in the flower of his youth, he returned to Africa an accomplished scholar, but very poor, he having consumed all his patrimony, in the expences of his travels and his education. His youth, his agreeable person, and his discretion, opened him a door, that afforded him entrance into a life of plenty and accommodation. A rich widow, named Prudentila, was captivated with the wit, and genteel personal appearance of Apuleius, and invited him to live in her house; which invitation ended in her marrying him. The relations of Prudentila’s first husband, by whom she had two sons, were much disgusted at this; and although one of the sons, who was named Pontianus, and was nearly arrived at man’s estate, professed a great friendship for Apuleius, and was assistant to him in bringing about the match; he became afterwards the instrument of the indignation of his relations, and joined with his brother and them, in accusing Apuleius of witchcraft. Their first allegation against him was, that he with magic arts, had seduced Prudentila, and won her heart; because that after having lived nine years a widow, without giving the least occasion for any suspicion of her continence, she, when advanced in years, and had sons nearly men grown, would not have had a propensity to matrimony, unless she had been excited to it by some unfair practices. They alledged secondly, that Apuleius superstitiously kept a magical hobgoblin, very carefully wrapt up in a piece of linen; and they alledged thirdly, that he must be an enchanter, for that Prudentila had written him a letter, in which she declared he had enchanted her; and this part of the letter they exhibited, to prove the charge.

XLVII. The reply we shall make to these heads of accusation, is that which Apuleius made himself to the court, and which is still preserved in his works. He treated the first allegation with derision, saying that it was unnecessary for a man possessed of the graces and accomplishments they had assigned him, to practise magic arts, to captivate the heart of a woman of forty years old, for that she was no older, although his accusers had asserted she was sixty. To this he added, that her physicians had advised her to marry, imputing to her continence, some indispositions she laboured under; and said further, that her son Poncianus had advised her, in case she did marry, to take his friend Apuleius for her husband.

XLVIII. In reality, nothing could be more ridiculous than this part of the accusation; but with all this, it was well received and much attended to by the vulgar; who upon perceiving, that a person who in other respects is prudent and cautious, has a passion for one of a different sex, begin immediately in their gossiping conversations, to impute it to magic potions; and this practice or notion is very antient. The same sort of rumour was circulated in Macedonia, against a woman of Thessaly, with whom, Philip the father of Alexander was greatly enamoured; but her absolution from the sin of witchcraft, came from a quarter from whence it might have been least expected, that is, from the injured Olympias, the wife of Philip. This queen contrived means to have the concubine of her husband brought into her presence; and upon viewing her beauty, and the gracefulness of her person, she, without further enquiry, pronounced sentence in her favour; and said to her, Ah, my child, how unjustly have you been calumniated, for you have no need of the arts of witchcraft, as your personal charms, added to the sprightliness of mind with which God has endowed you, are sufficient of themselves, to captivate the heart of any man.

XLIX. Nor is it of any avail to render probable a charge of witchcraft, to alledge, that a person of whose judgment and circumspection we have had long experience, should, in contradiction to the great opinion we had formed of his chastity, have been hurried away by an excessive passion of love, to act diametrically contrary to the former tenor of his conduct; for such a change, without having recourse to the power of magic, may be accounted for upon very rational and natural principles. There are those, who, but here and there an individual, have sufficient attraction to excite in them such a passion, and they go on to preserve the reputation of being rigorously chaste people, till their fate presents to their view, the steel, that is capable of striking fire into their flinty breasts; nor, to produce those kind of effects, is there any necessity for having recourse to sympathies, as these are things which can’t be explained; and all this business is performed by an occult mechanism, whose operations are not to be discerned, altho’ it causes the impressions objects make on us at different times, to vary, and produce different affections in us.

L. To the second article of accusation, he answered, that what he kept wrapt up in the piece of linen, was a kind of relique, token, or sacred symbol, of the mysterious worship of a certain deity, and that it had been given to him by some priests in Greece; which he proved in such a manner, as was satisfactory to the judge.

LI. In his reply to the third article of accusation, he loaded his accusers with ignominy, and filled them with confusion. The fact was, that the sentence of the letter of Prudentila, which they exhibited against him, when detached from the context of it, had the meaning which they alledged it to have, but when united to the other parts, and restored to the place from whence it was taken, it had a quite different signification. I shall insert the part of the letter from whence they extracted the sentence. Prudentila, after expostulating with her son Pontianus, and complaining that both he and his brother, incited to it by their relations, had embroiled themselves in a vindictive dispute with Apuleius, speaks thus to him: I having determined to marry, for the reasons I have recited to you, you yourself persuaded me to take Apuleius for a husband, preferable to any other man; and you being also a great admirer of his accomplishments, made him familiarly acquainted with me, for the purpose of bringing about the match; but now that you are stimulated to it by some vindictive and perverse persons, you insist, that Apuleius has suddenly turned magician, and has enchanted me. It is clear, that this is a manifest irony, and contains a lively reproof of their calumny; but the accusers exhibited no more than these last words of the letter: Apuleius has suddenly turned magician, and has enchanted me. Apuleius requested, that the whole letter might be read; and when that was done, the infamous cheat appeared in its proper colours.

LII. These reports of the magic of Apuleius, which did not exceed mere suspicions, and suspicions that were likewise ill founded, and which when they were first raised, were dissipated and driven away by his own masterly justification and defence of himself, revived after his death, and were augmented to such a degree, that at the period in which Christianity began to predominate, they came to be established almost every where by general consent, and by the voice of common fame. This appears from Lactantius, who in his refutation of the Pagan Hierocles, that was governor of Alexandria, and who, in a treatise he wrote to defeat the arguments of the Christians, which, in support of their faith, they founded on the miracles of Christ, insisted, that Apollonius Thyaneus, by the help of his magic, had done equal or greater things; upon which, Lactantius observes, that he wonders he had not joined to the miracles of Apollonius, those which were said to have been done by Apuleius: Voluit ostendere Appollonium, vel paria, vel etiam majora fecisse. Mirùm quod Apuleium prætermissit, cujus solent, et multa, et mira memorari. So that in those days, it appears that many miracles were said to have been done by Apuleius, and that he had the fame of being a great magician, and one that could vie, or stand in competition with Apollonius.

LIII. It appears also, that a century after the days of Lactantius, the rumour of the feats of Apuleius and Apollonius still existed, and seemed to have become more prevalent than they were before; and that the Gentiles, to discredit the miracles of Christ, urged the prodigies that had been done by Apollonius and Apuleius, and affirmed, that both the one and the other of them, had done greater things than our Saviour. This is evident, from the letter of Marcellinus to Saint Augustin, in which he requests the Saint to answer the objections, the Gentiles made to the miracles of our Saviour, and to refute the arguments they made use of to discredit them, which were founded, on the wonders that had been performed by those two magicians. He says to him: Precator accesserim, ut ad ea vigilantius respondere dignerit, in quibus, nihil amplius Dominum, quam alij homines facere potuerunt, fecisse, vel gessisse mentiuntur. Apollonium siquidem suum nobis, et Apuleium aliosque magicæ artis homines in medium proferunt, quorum majora contendunt extitisse miracula. The same thing appears from the second letter of Saint Agustin to Volussianus, and from his forty-ninth to the presbyter Deogratias.

LIV. But what man of any understanding, would conclude that Apuleius was guilty of witchcraft, upon the depositions of the Gentiles; who, seeing that the truth gained ground, were intent upon nothing, so much as inventing tales and lies to preserve their ancient superstition? They had before this, availed themselves of the history of the deceiver Philostratus, and in order to eclipse the miracles of Christ, had made use of the relations he gave of those of Apollonius; and as one crafty deception generally begets another, they afterwards brought Apuleius upon the theatre of the world as a rival of Christ; but with what foundation? Why, with less, if it was possible there could be less, than they had for introducing Apollonius; for, of the prodigies performed by this last, there had been a history composed, such a one as it was; but of Apuleius, they knew nothing more, than that he had been reputed a magician; and upon the strength of this rumour, they began to form stories of his portentous feats, for the truth of which says Saint Augustin, Nullo fideli auctore jactitant, which is sufficient, to discredit all that has been said of his magical operations.

LV. The arguments we have hitherto mentioned for supposing Apuleius to be a magician, are sufficiently contemptible; but the one we are about to recite, is much more so, because it is founded in gross ignorance; but notwithstanding this, I am inclined to think, that those who at this day believe in the sorceries of Apuleius, do it upon the credit of the story we are going to relate. We find in the works of Apuleius, an ingenious fable, intitled, The Golden Ass; in which, Apuleius recites of himself, that when he was upon his travels, he was entertained in the house of a woman of Thessaly, who was a famous witch, and who kept many ointments, which had the virtue of transforming those who rubbed themselves with them, into various shapes, and that he saw her one night, from a place where he had secreted himself, anoint with one of them, which transformed her into a screech owl, and that after this was done, she flew immediately out of the window in quest of her gallant, who lived a great way off. Apuleius, excited by a violent curiosity, was tempted to try the effect of the ointment on himself; so he advanced to the cupboard were the ointments were kept, and laying hold of one of the gallipots, began to anoint himself, which he did very plentifully; but as ill-luck would have it, instead of taking hold of the gallipot which would transform him into a screech-owl, he laid his hand upon one, whose contents converted him to a quite different species of bird; upon this he seized on another, the ointment of which, instantly turned him into an ass. The rest of the fable, consists in the recital of many pleasant adventures that happened to him under the form of an ass; and of his being sold and resold to many different masters, some of whom were better, and others worse; and of his undergoing a great variety of hardships; but at last, he was so happy as to meet with some roses, which were the only things capable of restoring him to his natural state, and upon eating a mouthful of them, he instantly recovered it. This is the substance of the fable of The Golden Ass; under which figure, Apuleius represents himself to have acted in propria persona, and gives an account of many humourous and odd things that befell him, while he was thus metamorphosed.

LVI. This fable then, either from having been read without proper attention, or from people’s not having had any account of it but by hearsay, but chiefly and principally for want of knowing from whence it originated, has been supposed by many, to have been a true history; and from a belief, that Apuleius had really practised magic arts, they went on to credit that he had been a magician by profession. But there was no mistake, which could have been more easily cleared up. The first sentence of the writing, undeceives us, for the author says, I am going to relate a Grecian fable: Fabulam Græcanicam incipimus; and in his preface to the book wherein it is contained, he says; Sermone isto milesio varias fabulas conferam; and in reality, the whole complex of accidents and incidents in the tale, clearly shew, that it was a fabrication of ingenious and pleasant fictions. But the strongest argument to acquit Apuleius of magic, in this case, is, that he was not the author of the fable; for the same tale, to which is prefixed the same title, is to be found in the works of Lucian, who long before had written it in Greek; and Apuleius only added to it, some new fictions and particular relations; and in a long digression, he introduced into it, the loves of Psyche and Cupid. Some learned men, have thought that Lucian was not the original author of the fable of The Golden Ass; but that he abridged it from the works of another Greek writer, called Lucius of Patras, which I have never seen, nor do I know whether the book of Metamorphoses of the person whose production they say this fable was, is now existing.

LVII. All we have recited being so clear and plain, is it not amazing, that Saint Augustin should believe, Apuleius wrote the History of the Golden Ass, and that he gave the relation, as of an event, that had really happened to himself? (vid. lib. 18. de Civit. cap. 18.) Louis Vives excuses him, by saying, the Saint being little versed in Greek authors, did not know that the same fable had been written before by Lucian. But this observation cannot suppress our astonishment, because from the words of Apuleius himself, without, to elucidate the matter, having recourse to any other author, it is plain and evident, that he related the story as a fiction, because he expressly says in the beginning of it, what I am about to write, is not a history, but a fable.

LVIII. The proper name of this hero, is not Tamerlan, but Timurbec; for thus he was called by his own subjects; and this is the name by which the Persian writers call him. It is true, that some of the Oriental authors call him Timur-lenk; and so Monsieur Herbelot calls him; but others are of opinion, that this last name was affixed to him as a term of reproach by the Turks, who changed the termination bec, which signifies prince, into the word lenk, which signifies lame; which was done, either because the Turks really thought he was so, or because they feigned him to have been so; or else, the cause of his lameness, was a fiction of their raising, as we shall presently make appear probable. The describing him by the name of Timur-lenk, having been introduced into Europe, it soon became corrupted there into Tamerlan, or Tamorlan, and has been generally made use of by all the European writers, for it is but a few years ago, that we learned from the Oriental authors, his true name. But as calling him either by one name or another, is a matter of little importance, we shall make use of the name which has been most generally adopted, as by that he will be best known.

LIX. Tamerlan, without doubt, was one of the most famous conquerors the world ever knew, and deserving to be ranked among the catalogue of the greatest heroes, with the Alexanders and the Cæsars. It may be, that circumstances made the victories of Alexander and Cæsar more remarkable than his; but it is certain, that neither the one nor the other of them, obtained so many as Tamerlan. There is not a single author, who does not acknowledge the great number of his triumphs and victories, and they also unanimously confess, that he was possessed of all the endowments necessary for obtaining them; so that we should not look upon his conquering so many countries, and preserving them after he had acquired them, as owing to a lucky assemblage of fortunate events; or as a gratuitous bequest of fortune; but as a tribute due to his valour, and military and political conduct. But the virtues of the conqueror, have been so blackened with the savage actions of the barbarian, that we have lost the image of the man in the colouring of his picture; because we only find in his character, as it has been drawn by some historians, representations in the extreme, of the hero and the brute; and, in order that his origin should bear proportion with his behaviour, they have made him the son of a poor shepherd, who soon forsaking the occupation of his father, became the leader of a gang of thieves; and by increasing his infamous band to the size of an army, found himself in a condition to plunder kingdoms, and dethrone princes.

LX. As the account of all these particulars came to Europe immediately from Turkey, which is a country, where they detest every thing belonging to Persia, there is no doubt to be made, but all, or nearly all, the Turks have said to blacken the character of Tamerlan, was an invention of their own; who, besides the general hatred they bear to the Persians, view with a particular envious eye, the prince, who above all others, has humbled the Ottoman pride. To detect the imposture of these relations, I shall have recourse to those Persian authors, whom Monsieur Herbelot quotes in his Bibliotheca Orientalis, and the extract from it of the History of Tamerlan, which is inserted in the Memoirs of Trevoux, translated from the Persian by Monsieur Petit Lacroix.

LXI. In the first place, what is said of his mean extraction, is false; for the Oriental authors, which Messieurs Herbelot and Petit Lacroix quote, describe him as a person most nobly born, and of kingly descent. Cheref Eddin Ali, who is the author Monsieur Petit Lacroix translated, says, that his father was a sovereign prince in a part of Transoxana, and that his territories were in Scythia or Asiatic Tartary; also, that upon Tamerlan’s succeeding to the sovereignty, he married the sister of Hussein, king of Transoxana.

LXII. Proceeding from the birth of Tamerlan, to treat of his customs and manners, I must premise, that I don’t pretend to represent him as having all the accomplishments of a perfect hero; but those would swerve as far from the truth, who were to paint him as an infernal fury, and a barbarian, destitute of all humanity and good faith; and as one, whose whole behaviour proclaimed, that he was actuated by no other motives, than those of brutal pride, savage cruelty, and blind rage. Tamerlan, without doubt, was extremely ambitious; and this was his ruling vice. But how much more virtuous than him in this particular, were those, who have been celebrated as consummate heroes, by the unanimous consent of ages? And what is more, it was the vice of ambition which gained them the reputation of heroes. If Alexander had not been unboundedly ambitious, he would never have acquired more applause in the world, than many of the other kings of Macedonia. Cæsar, without ambition, might have been equally a great captain; but, divested of his ambition, would never have made so much eclat in the world.

LXIII. There was certainly a great difference, between the characters of these two heroes, and that of Tamerlan; for they never exercised any inhumanity on those they had vanquished; but it must be confessed, that Tamerlan sometimes did. It will be necessary however in this place, to obviate an objection that has been made to his conduct, and which has arisen principally, from those who have treated of the affairs of this prince, not having made proper allowances for his circumstances and situation, and from their imputing his actions to wrong motives. I admit, that he was sometimes inhuman, although he was not so from genius or inclination, but from policy only. In consequence of the vast design he had formed, of making himself master of all Asia, or, to speak more properly, of all the world, he conceived it necessary to adopt alternately, the two extremes of gentleness and severity; gentleness, with those who submitted upon the approach of his standards; and severity, with those who obstinately held out to the last extremity. He was violently passionate, which is a vice, that although it is different from that of cruelty, has much the appearance of it, and is frequently mistaken for it; for to determine whether a man is cruel, we should observe how he acts in cold blood; as the most merciful and mild disposed person, in the impetuous sallies of his anger, may be betrayed into executing a stroke of violence. Many of the bloody orders of Tamerlan, were given, not while he held the pen, but the sword in his hand; either in the hour of battle; or immediately after it; and it was before the warlike raging heat of his blood had time to cool, that he determined upon acts of vengeance; nor was it in the cabinet, but the field, that he manifested these dispositions of barbarity. It is certain on the other hand, that he never was known, neither with those who submitted themselves voluntarily to him, nor with any of his own subjects, to have practised an action, that might be termed a cruel one. Tamerlan then, was not what he has commonly been described to have been, a fierce savage brute, who, like a Nero, or a Caligula, from sallies of inhumanity and caprice, and his fondness for doing acts of barbarity, would shed human blood.

LXIV. Nor was his ambition so outrageous and unbridled, as to excite him to trample with contempt, on the opinion of the world. He was desirous of usurping absolute authority, but without incurring the stigma of being termed an usurper. To accomplish this, he, like other artful tyrants, disguised this vicious disposition, with the masque of virtue. He declared, that the world was over-run with corruption, and that justice and good faith were banished from among mankind, and that we saw nothing but perfidy and wickedness, practised by princes with princes, by princes with their subjects, and by the subjects themselves with one another. Therefore, as he had been vested with a special commission from the Almighty for the reformation of mankind, he gave out, that Divine Providence had chosen him as the instrument, to chastise evil-doers, and to restore all things to their proper state of order and decorum; but he was neither so vain nor so foolish, as to think the world would give him credit for being vested with such a commission, upon the bare testimony of his own word; and therefore, he endeavoured to gain credit for being so impowered, by putting on the appearances of a devout man, and by practising the actions of a just one. He esteemed men of letters, and took delight in their conversation; and always shewed a profound respect for his false prophet Mahomet. He treated with special attention, the Doctors of that mistaken sect, and with singular reverence, all those who had acquired the reputation of being eminently virtuous.

LXV. But above all, he was a strict observer of justice towards his subjects; and punished thefts and roguery, without remission, or distinction of persons. He caused governors of provinces to be hanged like common thieves, if they plundered, or exercised any acts of tyranny on his subjects. Thus through all his dominions, people’s persons and properties were so secure and well protected, and their confidence in the safety of both, was so thoroughly established, that no man seemed to take the least thought, or to be the least anxious about preserving either of them, for Tamerlan was the general guardian of all things; and so free were his territories from thefts, robberies, or outrages, that Cheref Eddin Ali declares, an unarmed man might travel any route, and from one end to the other of his dominions, with a bowl of silver on his head filled with gold, and not meet with the least molestation.

LXVI. It is true, that his severity in some instances, was carried to the extreme, as for example, when he ordered a soldier to be put to death for taking from a poor peasant, a little milk and cheese. But the proportion of bad contained in such actions, should be estimated, by taking into consideration the whole combination of circumstances accompanying them; for there are without doubt, various cases, where what seems excessive rigour, may be dictated by prudence. The sallies of military licentiousness, require many times, to be restrained by such violent strictures; for when either among troops, or the people in general, outrages are very frequent, it may become necessary, in order to suppress them, to exercise greater rigour, than by the true spirit of justice, is permitted to be exercised upon ordinary and common occasions.

LXVII. I cannot help in this place making a remark, which is very worthy of being attended to, and as I don’t remember it has been made by any other person, I mention it here, which is, that under governments who are very vigilant in detecting rogues, and very rigorous in punishing them, there are fewer executions, than where the government is more relaxed; so that what at first sight may appear extreme rigour, when all things are considered, is in truth and reality, lenity. It is not difficult to decypher this seeming paradox. Whenever it is universally known in a state, that there is great vigilance practised in detecting roguery, and that after people are convicted of crimes, there is no hope of pardon for them, the instances of outrages become very rare, and consequently, if capital punishments don’t become totally unnecessary, they are very unfrequent. The terror impressed by the first executions, is a curb, on vile and perverse geniuses; and by a king’s hanging fifty or an hundred without remission, in the first year of his reign, he may find it necessary for the rest of his life to execute but very few; on the other hand, when the pardons are very frequent, and there is but little pains taken, to apprehend and bring rogues to justice, notwithstanding that there are many offences concealed, and many pardoned, the number of executions will be much greater in the course of a reign of moderate length, where this policy is adopted, than they would in that of a prince, who was vigilant to detect, and inexorable to punish, when he first ascends the throne. Let then these pernicious, and mistaken feelings of lenity, be banished from every state, as what is generally stiled rigour, is both salutary and beneficial to a community, and to all the individuals who are members of it.

LXVIII. I must add to this, that the proportioning punishments to crimes, should not be adjusted by the same rules in all places indifferently. In the ratio, that some nations are more fierce and stubborn than others, the degree of punishment, should be increased in those nations; for what would be sufficient to restrain a mild and timid people, would be useless to curb a ferocious and hardened one. Tamerlan, who knew the genius and disposition of those who were under his dominion, knew also, how to proportion his punishments, to suit the nature and tempers of his various subjects, and knew likewise, that what would not be more than precisely necessary in one region, would be excessive in another.

LXIX. There is a particular instance, which demonstrates that he had great judgment in proportioning punishments, and that he never proceeded to excessive severities, without sufficient cause. An officer, who had served with reputation in former wars, was found tardy in a particular action. We might be apt to conclude from the martial temper of Tamerlan, that he would have ordered the man to be immediately beheaded; but he acted quite differently, and was satisfied with inflicting on him a much milder punishment, and one that was of such a nature, as did not affect the blood of the delinquent in the execution of it, except it was, by making it rise in his face from the shame and disgrace of the chastisement. He caused him to be affectedly ornamented and dressed out in womens cloaths, and in this habit, exposed him to the derision of the whole army. This in a European prince, would have been celebrated as a humourous, and a lenient punishment.

LXX. On the other hand, in his ordinary deportment as a man, he was mild, affable, and entertaining. What passed between him and the poet Ahmedi Kermani, shews evidently, that in conversation with his subjects, he abated his dignity even more, than it is common for the most pacific princes to do. The same poet tells us the story, in the history of Tamerlan, which he wrote in verse, and it was from thence Mons. Herbelot says it was taken.

LXXI. The story runs thus; the king, when he was one day bathing, attended by many of the nobles of his court, and also by the poet Ahmedi Kermani, with whose wit and humour he always used to be much pleased, proposed to him, that he should entertain the company with some pleasant relation. To which Ahmedi replied, that he begged his majesty would name the subject. Be it so, answered Tamerlan: I would have you then suppose, that we are all here in a fair to be sold, and that you are to have the disposal of us, and are to set a value upon each individual. Upon this, Ahmedi began to scrutinize all the noblemen who were present, and to determine with great pleasantry, what he should ask a head for them: he rated one at one price, and another at another; and for his estimates of them, assigned some humourous reason. Tamerlan, observing that he had set a value upon every body but him, reminded him, that he also was for sale. Ahmedi, without the least embarrassment, replied, Why truly, Sir, I think I may venture to estimate you at about thirty aspres, which is an eastern coin of very small value. How! says Tamerlan, you surely have underrated me; for the napkin round my waist is worth as much as that; why, answered Ahmedi, that’s the principal thing I regarded in making the estimate; for I should not have valued your person at above two oblos. Tamerlan, so far from being offended at this, was pleased with the joke, and rewarded the poet with a handsome present. I ask now, is this anecdote of his life, descriptive of a fierce tyrant, or a most affable prince? These domestic trifles, better display the natural tempers of princes, than great military, or political operations, because the last, are almost constantly attended with ostentation mixed with reserve, and the others, are generally the effects of the pure simple workings of nature unconstrained.

LXXII. Nor was he deficient in point of modesty, for he generally had an eye to preserving the appearance of it in his deportment; and if this was not the effect of virtue, it at least shewed his discretion; and may as fairly be urged as an argument, to disprove the allegation of his being a vain boaster, as if his behaviour had proceeded from the purest motives. Being once in conversation with a Mahometan Doctor, whom he had taken a prisoner, he said to him, Doctor, you see me here just what I am; which is properly no more than a miserable little man, or rather a half man; and notwithstanding I have conquered so many provinces and cities, in Iraca, in the Indies, and in Turquestan; I owe all my successes, to the divine Grace and Favour; nor has the spilling the blood of so many Mussulmen been my fault; for I swear and protest to you in the presence of God, that I have never undertaken any war, with a deliberate purpose of oppressing any one; but it has been my enemies, who have provoked the chastisement of my arms, and have brought on themselves their own ruin.

LXXIII. He was always consistent and uniform in his declarations of the motives for his conduct, and constantly insisted, that he never employed his troops in any enterprize, from mere views of ambition, but from necessity, and upon great provocation; and in truth, he was not so unjust as he has commonly been represented to have been. Hussein, King of Transoxana, whose dominions were the first he conquered, might more properly be called the invader of Tamerlan, than Tamerlan could be deemed the invader of him; for Hussein, to the injustice of entering the other’s territories hostilely, and without provocation, added ingratitude also, Tamerlan having in some of his military enterprizes, done him great service. The other princes, over whom he triumphed, were for the greatest part usurpers, and people who had acquired what they held, by more iniquitous means, than Tamerlan used to distress them; for they usurped what they seized from the legitimate owners, but he only took what he despoiled them of, from a set of thieves. Neither did he move against Bajazet unprovoked, for he, before experiencing the least hostility from Tamerlan, exercised some hostile acts, both upon Tamerlan’s subjects, and upon several princes who were in alliance with him; to which we may add, that various other princes whom Bajazet had despoiled, implored the assistance of Tamerlan against his oppressions, as against the common enemy of mankind. In consequence of all this, Tamerlan sent an ambassador to him, to remonstrate against the injustice of his conduct, and to try by fair means, to bring him to reason, but he treated his ambassador with scorn, and dismissed him contemptuously.

LXXIV. But the most material thing in Tamerlan’s favour is, that he left those princes who submitted to him voluntarily in the quiet possession of their dominions. This benefit, was obtained by the King of Kurt, by the Sovereigns of Mazanderan, Schirvan, and many others; but in order to obtain this, they found it necessary to submit to Tamerlan, before his triumphant troops invested their walls.

LXXV. Neither is there the least foundation, for the tales of the insolencies he exercised on the princes who became his prisoners. He not only granted Hussein his life, but permitted him to retire and live quiet wherever he liked best; but the imprudent distrust of this unhappy man, cost him his life; for doubting of his safety, he fled from his habitation, and hid himself in a cave, where a peasant finding him concealed, put him to death. We are assured, that Tamerlan shed tears, upon hearing of his catastrophe; but whether those tears were affected or sincere, will ever continue problematical, as it does, of which species those were, that Cæsar shed, upon hearing of the death of Pompey. But, admitting that this grief was feigned, it proves at least, that Tamerlan strove to preserve the appearance of his being a clement and compassionate man, which is incompatible with the vulgar accounts of his brutal and undisguised ferocity.

LXXVI. But after all, the most clamorous charge against Tamerlan remains still to be replied to, and which we find greatly aggravated in all the histories that have been written in Europe, where his conduct has been canvassed, and relates to the cruel imprisonment he inflicted on Bajazet. That unfortunate monarch, to whom, before he was defeated by Tamerlan, they, on account of the rapidity of his conquests, gave the surname of Gilderin, which signifies ray, or flash; after having for a long time been the terror of Europe and Asia, and after innumerable conquests gained over both the Christian and Mahometan princes whose territories were in the neighbourhood of his dominions, was at length, miserably defeated by Tamerlan, and made a prisoner in a great battle, where they counted the number of combatants on each side, by hundreds of thousands. Of this fact there is not the least doubt; the point in dispute, being only, what was the sequel of the tragedy. All the European authors agree unanimously, that Tamerlan, as soon as he had the Ottoman monarch in his power, caused him to be put into an iron cage, which cage, at his meal-times, he used to order to be placed at the bottom of his table, from whence he fed him with bones and scraps that he threw to him, in the same manner that you would feed a dog; and that he never had him taken out of the cage, but to serve him as a block to tread on whenever he mounted his horse; and for this purpose, he caused him to be laid prostrate on the ground, and was used to set his foot on his shoulders. They tell us further, that Bajazet lived some time in this miserable state of humiliation; but that at length, he in a fit of rage and despair, dashed his brains out against the bars of the cage. Some authors add to this, another very heavy charge against Tamerlan, although they don’t quote the antient authors from whom they took it, nor have I seen any author who mentions it. The accusation is this, that Tamerlan caused the wife of Bajazet to wait upon him naked, when he was sitting at table, Bajazet himself being present at the spectacle; and that the furious rage excited in him by the sight of such an object, the beholding of which, was worse to him than death itself, caused him to dispatch himself.

LXXVII. But with all this, the wonderful relation we have been just mentioning is fabulous, and deserving to be comprehended in the catalogue of injurious impostures, which should be blotted out from the history of Tamerlan; for it is not credible, that he would have treated so unworthily, so great a monarch as Bajazet; and notwithstanding there has been no tale circulated in a greater number of volumes, than the abasement and disgraceful death of Bajazet; for, besides the numerous histories in which we read accounts of them, there is scarce a book of ethic, or moral reflections, in which, to display the inconstancy of human affairs, and the great reverses of fortune, the instance of Bajazet, precipitated from the proudest throne in the world, to the bottom of the table, and the feet of the horse of Tamerlan, is not brought as an example; I say, notwithstanding all this, the story ought to be rejected as fabulous. The testimony of Monsieur Herbelot, should have great weight in this question, who says, that in none of the Oriental authors, even including those who were enemies to Tamerlan, is to be found the story of the iron cage, save and excepting in an Ottoman chronicle of very modern date, that has been translated by Leunclavius, and which takes notice of it. This evidence, should be esteemed of little weight; because, besides it’s standing single, and being but of small antiquity, the person who gives it, was an enemy to Tamerlan; and it is not improbable, but the Turk who wrote that chronicle, collected his materials from European authors. The authors of credit and reputation whom Monsieur Herbelot examined, relate the thing in a quite different manner, for they rather assure us, that Tamerlan’s treatment of the Ottoman Emperor, was of the most generous kind; that he invited him to his table, and caused a magnificent and royal tent to be erected for his habitation; that he most obligingly endeavoured to divert and amuse him, in various ways; and made several feasts, and contrived divers pastimes to entertain him: that in the conversations he had with him under his misfortunes, he discoursed much of the inconstancy of fortune, and the vicissitude of human affairs; and they say finally, that Bajazet died a natural death, and differ only, in their accounts of the distemper that carried him off; some asserting that it was a quinsey, and others that it was an apoplexy. They say further, that Tamerlan was much concerned for his death; and protested solemnly when they informed him of it, that it was his intention to restore him to the throne of his ancestors, after first reinstating in their dominions, the princes whose kingdoms he had taken from them.

LXXVIII. The benignity of Tamerlan towards Bajazet, was so much the more commendable, by so much the more the rigour the latter exercised with others, would have justified his treating him with greater severity; for Bajazet behaved to those he had conquered, with the utmost haughtiness and cruelty; and affected to despise all the other sovereigns upon earth. What excess of severity could have been imputed to Tamerlan, if after having in lawful war, taken such a man a prisoner, he had chastised rigorously, his usurpations, insolencies, and cruelties, among which, might be enumerated his ordering in cold blood, six hundred French cavaliers, whom he had taken prisoners of war, to be beheaded in his presence? What treatment could be better proportioned to the proud haughtiness of a man, who pretended to make slaves of all the world, than loading him with chains, and imprisoning him in an iron cage; and in order to humble his pride, using him like the most vile slave, and converting his superb shoulders to a block, for the conqueror to set his foot on when he mounted his horse? I say all this might be justified, upon the principle, of making him an example to deter others from the like practices. And besides what we have enumerated, the injuries he had done, and the provocations he had given to Tamerlan himself, would have justified his behaving to him with great severity; for example, his wantonly invading the possessions of his subjects, and the territories of his allies; his speaking of him in reproachful and ignominious terms, for instance, calling him thief, and a mean vile fellow, all which had been told to Tamerlan; and to sum up the whole, his treating with derision and contempt, a reasonable expostulatory letter, which Tamerlan had written to him on his behaviour. When all this is considered, we shall not find it wonderful, that Tamerlan, a conqueror, who was not instructed in, nor influenced by the mild precepts of the gospel, exercised on such a captive as Bajazet, the utmost rigour; and it being certain, that his treatment of him was as mild as we have represented it to have been, we ought rather to be surprized at his using him so gently, and to censure his clemency towards a man, whom the principles of justice, seem to dictate should have been punished with rigour.

LXXIX. Although it appears rather superfluous to add any thing more in favour of Tamerlan, we will just take notice of a circumstance respecting his usage of Bajazet, which the authors who relate it, mention with great confidence; and that is, that Bajazet, after he had fallen into his hands, afforded him a special provocation for treating him as he did. They say, that Tamerlan asked him, how he would have treated him if he had been the conqueror? To which Bajazet with an unbridled ferocity, and in a disgustful tone of voice answered, that he would have loaded him with chains, and have shut him into an iron cage, and would also have made him serve as a block to set his foot on when he mounted his horse. Upon this gross and barbarous answer, Tamerlan ordered, that he should be treated in the same manner himself; and I believe you will hardly find a prince of such tender feelings, that upon receiving so irrational a provocation, would not have taken the same kind of satisfaction.

LXXX. With regard to what is said of the gross manner in which he used the wife of Bajazet, although many authors affirm the fact, I make no doubt but the story is fabulous; for besides the silence of all the Oriental authors upon this head, Chalcondylas, who is the most ancient of the European ones who treat of the affairs of Tamerlan, as he wanted but little of being contemporary with that prince, takes no notice of it, which is a strong presumptive argument that the tale is fabulous; and indeed it is not only a presumptive, but in some degree a positive one, of its being so. It is true, that he speaks of Tamerlan’s treating her with indignity; and mentions the affront he put upon her, which was making her serve him with the cup at table in the presence of Bajazet: Jussa est in conspectu mariti sui vinum infundere. Would this Greek author have concealed the gross circumstance of his making her do it naked, which would have infinitely aggravated the injury, if the thing had been true? I might safely venture to answer, that he certainly would not. I therefore conclude, that the story of the nakedness, was the invention of some author, who was greatly posterior to Chalcondylas; who, having read of Tamerlan’s obliging the wife of Bajazet to serve him with the cup, in order to heighten the tragedy of that prince, and give a gloss to the relation, foisted it into his history. If Tamerlan really acted by the wife of Bajazet, as Chalcondylas has represented him to have done, I won’t pretend to justify his behaviour; but admitting all he says to be true, if we attend to the many instances of provocation which Bajazet had given to Tamerlan, by his barbarity, haughtiness, and ferocity, Tamerlan’s taking this method of humbling his pride, will not appear so highly reprehensible; and we might even add, that it was in some degree excusable.

LXXXI. From all that has been said, we may infer the opinion we ought to entertain of the character of Tamerlan; which is, that he was a prince, who, like all other conquerors that are without the light of the gospel, did much good, and much harm. He was an eminent warrior, a profound politician, and a zealous observer of justice to his own subjects; although he acted by strangers, sometimes justly, and at others unjustly; and also sometimes mercifully, and at others cruelly; but by his natural genius and disposition, he was more inclined to mercy than severity; and the enormous deluges of blood, which he caused to be shed upon some occasions, did not proceed from his ferocious and merciless disposition, but from starts of blind rage, and his thoughtless compliance with the maxims, which his ambition and his policy dictated to him, and which allowed of no intervals for the operations of humanity.

LXXXII. Upon the whole, I don’t pretend that the apology I have made for this prince, cannot be replied to. It is sufficient for my purpose, if what I have said in his favour, has the greatest probability of its side; as its being the most probable, ought to be effectual to exonerate him from the public infamy that has been thrown upon him; for no man should be deprived of his honour, without first establishing the certainty of his guilt.

AN ANSWER TO THE LETTER of a GENTLEMAN Who made an Objection to the historical Account given by Feyjoö of My Lord Bacon .

Dear Sir,

I. Your reproving me for the Eulogiums bestowed on you in my letter, convinces me thoroughly that they were just and merited; as modesty and an aversion to being praised, are qualities that always accompany elevated worth. I shall therefore not dwell longer on this head, but proceed in the best manner I am able, to give you the satisfaction you desire, with respect to what I said in a former letter, that my Lord Bacon was the first who told the philosophers, that pursuing systems, was going on in a mistaken road to search for truth; and who in his writings, pointed out to them the path they should pursue in order to arrive at this object; but as he perceived that Aristotle was the leader and master of the literary world, that is, that his philosophical system was almost universally received and adopted, he found it necessary, in order to induce them to follow his advice, to attempt to discredit the authority of Aristotle, which he in a great measure accomplished, and brought many eminent men to concur with him in opinion.

II. You deny that Bacon was the first who engaged in the undertaking of discrediting Aristotle, and attacking his systems; for that Bernardinus Telesius, a celebrated philosopher, and native of Cosenza, attempted it before him; and although Bacon made great advances in this matter, he only improved an undertaking begun by another man, and worked upon his plan.

III. My good Sir, in investigating this point, we shall find there are two distinct things to be considered, and that the consequences to be deduced from them, are by no means reciprocal or the same. One of them is, whether Bacon was the first who formed the project of discrediting all systems; and the other is, whether he was the first who undertook to attack Aristotle. I affirm that he took the lead in attacking all systems in general; but not that he was the first who attacked the doctrines of Aristotle. Indeed I could not assert this last circumstance, without falling not only into a gross error, but into a manifest contradiction of myself; for in the fourth volume of the Theatrico Critico, I have said, that not only Bernardinus Telesius, preceded Bacon, in the attempt of combating Aristotle; but I also pointed out many others, who had preceded him in the same attempt; and instanced Gemistus, Plethon, Cardinal Bessarion, Franciscus Patricius, Theophrastus Paracelsus, together with Peter del Ramo.

IV. I also declared in the same place, after making mention of Paracelsus, that Bernardinus Telesius (nearly at the same time with him) who was a native of the city of Cosenza in the kingdom of Naples, and a man of subtle ingenuity, declared himself averse to the physics of Aristotle; and endeavoured to establish the system of his own, upon the principles, which, with a little variation, were afterwards adopted by Campænela.

V. I there also, in express words, declared, that Bacon was posterior to Telesius in his attack upon the doctrines of Aristotle, as may be seen by the order in which I ranged Aristotle’s impugners; for after mentioning the philosopher Cosentinus, and many others of them, I proceeded to speak of Bacon, which I did in the following words; After these came that great and sublime genius Francis Bacon, earl of Verulam, &c. and you will please to observe, that the words after these, as they stand in the context, clearly imply, that Bacon was not only posterior to Telesius, but to all the others; both with respect to the time in which he lived, and also in his attack upon Aristotle. By all this you may see clearly, that I can make no objection to your well-grounded assertion, that as Telesius was considerably anterior to Bacon, he could borrow no lights from Bacon’s works.

VI. But did Bacon borrow any from Telesius to assist him in his endeavours of demonstrating, that all philosophical systems are erroneous; and in pointing out to the philosophers, the track they should pursue in order to arrive at truth? This is the point in which we differ, and this is the only point of view in which I insist that Bacon stands single, or at least, that this is an undertaking in which he never was preceded, either by Telesius, or any other. Telesius, it is true, attacked the doctrines of Aristotle before Bacon; but did he declare himself averse to all systems, or systematic modes of philosophizing? Nothing like it, for he himself was a rigorous systematic philosopher, and a follower of the antient doctrine of Parmenides, who constituted heat and cold as the first principles of all things.

VII. If further proof in this matter was necessary, Bacon’s Treatise on the Philosophical Doctrines of Parmenides, Telesius, and Democritus, where he intentionally and expressly, attacks and reprobates all their philosophical tenets, seems decisive; for he there, so far from shewing himself a follower of Telesius, or a worker upon his plan, studiously and seriously applies himself, to taking to pieces and overturning the whole plan of Telesius; and in another part of his works, that is in his Treatise de Auxiliis mentis, et accensione luminis naturalis; he treats his system as a theatrical fable: Quin etiam nudiustertius Bernardinus Telesius scenam conscendit, et novam fabulam egit, nec plausu celebrem, nec argumento elegantem.

VIII. From these premises it must follow, that Bacon could borrow no lights from Telesius, to assist him in pointing out to the philosophers, the path they should pursue to arrive at truth; and this path which he pointed out to them, was that of experience, which never once occurred to Telesius. Or indeed, how can it be supposed that such a man as Telesius, should point out to others the road of experience, as the only one by which they could arrive at a knowledge of philosophical truths, when he was pre-occupied and pre-possessed, in favour of the system of Parmenides, which he recommended to every one, as the only mode, by which that knowledge could be attained? An author never directs his readers to follow any other road, than that which he pursues himself; nor does he lead them by any other, than that which he himself travels.

IX. I have not seen the Philosophical Works of Telesius, but I have in my possession all those of Campanela, who no one doubts was a faithful sectary of Telesius; but I can find nothing in them that is at all like Bacon; although it is by no means unlikely, that Bacon, when he was combating some particular propositions in Aristotle, might make use of some arguments that had before been urged by Telesius; but upon the whole, the plans and the objects of the two men, were very widely different. Telesius endeavoured to throw down the system of Aristotle, in order to build up that of Parmenides on the ruins of it. Bacon strove to demolish that of Aristotle, that of Parmenides, and the systems of all other philosophers whatever; and recommended to all those who employed themselves in philosophical speculations, to apply themselves solely to the study of experimental observations.

X. This is what has occurred to me on the subject of your objection, which I submit to your consideration and correction; and beg leave to return you my thanks for the honour you have done me in dedicating your little new book to me.

God keep you.

A LETTER On the Subject of the WANDERING JEW. In Answer to one written to Feyjöö, asking his Opinion of that Matter.

Dear Sir,

I. In return to your enquiries concerning the story of the Wandering Jew, and the question you ask me respecting it, which is, whether I have read an account of such a person in any author deserving of credit, or who is esteemed classical? I must answer, that I have read accounts of such a man in various authors, some of whom are reckoned classical, but their relations of him vary in particular circumstances.

II. The first, to the best of my remembrance, who made any mention of him in a regular history, was the celebrated English historian Matthew Paris; according to which author, there came to England in 1229, an Armenian bishop, who was recommended by the pope, to be shewn the relics of saints that were deposited in that kingdom; and the pope added in his recommendation of him, a request that he might have all the information he was desirous of respecting these matters, and every particular relating to them. As it was current among the vulgar at that time, that the Wandering Jew was then going about the Oriental Regions; some curious people asked the bishop, whose habitation and diocese was in that quarter, and who they on that account, thought must know whether those reports were true or not, many questions concerning them; and desired he would tell them, whether there really had been, or was then, such a person as the Wandering Jew in that country; and if he was living now, in what quarter he was travelling, what sort of man he was, and what account he gave of himself? To which the bishop answered, that the said Jew really now existed, and was at present strolling about Armenia. They put the same questions to several others, who came as attendants on, or companions to the bishop, who all gave the same answer; and one of them gave a particular account of him and his adventures, who was a person that could speak English, and express himself readily in Latin also.

III. This man told them, that the Wandering Jew, before his conversion, was named Cataphilus, and had been the porter or door-keeper of Pilate; and that, being at his station as such, when they brought our Saviour from before the prætor, in order to crucify him, he, to make him move on faster, at his going out of the door, gave him a blow with his fist on the shoulders; upon which our Redeemer turning his head, said to him, The Son of Man is going, but you shall remain here till he returns. The porter upon this immediately became a convert to Christianity, and was baptized by Ananias, who gave him the name of Joseph. This expression of our Saviour’s to him, was understood to imply a prediction, that this Jew should not die, till Christ’s return to judge the quick and the dead; which prophecy had been verified with respect to the Jew to that day, who was then more than twelve hundred and fifty years old, although at the end of every hundred years of his age, he had always experienced some threatenings of death, for at this period, he had been constantly visited with a severe disease, which so far debilitated him, that it might be said to have brought him to death’s door; but upon his recovery, his youth seemed to have been renewed, for he did not appear a man of more than thirty years old, which was the age of Christ, at the time of his crucifixion.

IV. This person added, that the Jew Joseph was very well known to the bishop, and had lived in his house but a little before he set out on his journey to England.

V. The said historian, upon the authority we have been mentioning, tells us further, that the Jew answered minutely, and in a grave, and composed manner, to all questions that were asked him concerning antient things, and gave a particular account of the opening of the graves, and the rising of the dead, when our Saviour gave up the ghost, and also of the lives and actions of the apostles; that he always seemed greatly afraid that the day of judgment was near at hand, because that would be the period of his life; and that he never failed to be seized with great horror, when he was reminded of the sacrilegious disrespect he had been guilty of to our Saviour; but he always expressed hopes of being pardoned, on account of his great ignorance of the sin he committed.

VI. Jacob Basnage, a Protestant author, in his history of the Jews, tells us of three wandering Jews. The first and most antient of whom, was named Samer, and was condemned to wander, as a punishment, for his having cast the first golden calf in the days of Moses. The other, was the Cataphilus we have been speaking of, who was the porter to Pilate; and the third was named Asuerus, and was a shoemaker at Jerusalem. He says this last appeared in 1547 at Hamburgh, and the account he gave of himself, was with only the variation of here and there a circumstance, the same, that the Armenians gave of the person, whom they said they knew in their own country. This man declared, that before his conversion, he was called Asuerus, was a shoemaker by trade, and kept a shoemaker’s shop near the gate of Jerusalem, at which our Saviour went out in his way to Mount Calvari; who when he approached the gate, finding himself much fatigued, was desirous of resting himself a little while in his shop; but that he gave him a shove, and would not suffer him to enter the door, and that then Christ said to him; I shall soon be at rest, but you shall wander about without ceasing till my return. He said, the prophecy began to take effect from that instant, and had continued in force till then; for that he had constantly, ever since that æra, been wandering without being able to settle himself in any province whatever. He was a man of large stature, and had the appearance of one of about fifty years of age; he was also apt to fetch frequent deep sighs, which the by-standers imputed to the sadness that was caused in him by the remembrance of his crime.

VII. Our great expositor Augustin Calmet, in his Dictionario Biblico, testifies to have had in his possession, a letter written at London by Lady Mazarine (who I suppose was she they called the Dutchess Hortensia Mancini, and who was as famous for her labours, as her beauty) to the Dutchess of Bullon, in which she relates, that at the time she wrote the letter, there arrived a stranger in England, who gave the same sort of account of himself, as that the Jew we mentioned before did. He asserted, says Lady Hortensia, that he knew all the apostles, and gave a particular description of their stature, their features, and the cloaths they wore; he said, he had gone over all the regions of the earth, and that he should not cease to wander till the end of the world. He boasted that he could heal the diseased with his touch, and understood many languages; and related with such exactness the events of all ages, that every one listened to him with admiration. A gentleman who was eminently learned addressed him in Arabic; and he answered him off hand in the same language; nor could you mention to him the name of any person who had been famous in former ages, that he did not affirm to have known. He said he was at Rome, when it was set fire to by Nero, and that he had conversed with Mahomet, and knew his father; that he had seen Saladine, Tamerlan, Bajazet, Soliman the great, &c. and she added in her letter, that simple people attributed many wonderful performances to him, but that the wise and prudent looked upon him as an impostor.

VIII. The author of the Turkish Spy, whoever he might have been, which is a fact that I don’t think has yet been ascertained, makes mention in many of his letters, of the wandering Jew. Epist. 39. of his second volume addressed to Ibrahim, and which was supposed to have been written about the year 1643, is all taken up with particulars and circumstances relating to the Wandering Jew, who he says he saw and conversed with at Paris, and asked him many questions respecting the things of antiquity. The Spy says, he told him his name was Michob Ader, and that he had been door-keeper to the Divan at Jerusalem, together with all the circumstances that Calmet says were related of him by the Dutchess of Mazarine; to which was added, that he had travelled through a variety of countries, had read much, and understood many languages. But notwithstanding all this, the Spy was of opinion, that he was either a madman, or an impostor.

IX. The same author in his fifth volume, epist. 50. addressed to his friend Nathan Ben Saddi, a Jew, and which was written about the year 1666; I say the same author in this letter, relates to Ben Saddi, many particulars and circumstances respecting the Wandering Jew, whom he tells him he had seen and conversed with at Paris; and acquaints him with a variety of things, that the said Jew had told him relating to the Jews in the northern parts of Asia, which he believed to be the relicks of the twelve dispersed tribes.

X. This author in his sixth volume, epist. 9. written in the year 1672, to Gulielmus, tells him, towards the latter part of it, that they talked in all places of a wandering Jew, who at that time was said to be at Astracan, and there preaching, that Christianity would be at an end in 1700. And in his seventh epistle addressed to Codabafrad Kheick, a Mahometan, written in the same year of 1672, he gives him an account, of all the Wandering Jew preached and prophesied at Astracan. The Spy says, that a relation of his, named Fousi, was living there at the same time, who had been a great traveller, and was a merchant; and adds, that he had received a letter from him but a little while before, which gave him the account of all these particulars respecting the wandering Jew.

XI. He prophesied, says the Spy, that in the year 1700 of the Hegira of the Christians, the Turks would over-run all the continent of Europe, and every part occupied by the Christians on the main land; that the Christians would fly to England as an asylum, and that there a great person would spring up, that would become their chief and leader, and that he would conquer Jerusalem. The Jews would then open their eyes, and acknowledge Jesus Christ for the true Messiah; but the Spy adds, that he only relates these things, and does not believe them.

XII. Notwithstanding the foregoing, he in his seventeenth epistle of the same volume, written in 1674, to the Turk Ali Bashaw, gives him to understand towards the conclusion of the said letter, that he believes the prophecy of the Wandering Jew, which perhaps he did to flatter the Mahometans, because the Jew says that they will over-run all Europe in the year 1700.

XIII. Finally, Father Louis Babenstuber, a German Benedictin, in a volume which he divided into three books, which was printed at Augsburgh in the year 1724, intitled Prolusiones Academicæ, where he institutes and treats of fifty-one questions, which he terms Quodlibeticas curiosas; and in the beginning of his 16th proposition of his third book, he proposes the question, whether, except Elias and Henoch, there ever was an older man in the world than Methusalem? and there after treating of Elias and Henoch, he speaks of the Wandering Jew; and after having related of him nearly the same that Jacob Basnage did; to Basnage’s account of him, he adds, that he was examined at Hamburgh, by Paulus Elizius, a Theologian, and then proceeds to say, Visus est autem hic Judæus ab innumeris mortalibus in multis Europæ partibus, nempè anno Christi 1547. Hamburgi. anno 1575. Matrici in Hispania, anno 1599. Viennæ in Austria, anno 1610. Lubecæ, anno 1634. in Moscovia, alia plura loca sciens præterea.

XIV. These are all the informations we have of the Wandering Jew; by which you may see that this extraordinary person appeared in the year 1229 in England. In that of 1547 at Hamburgh. In that of 1575 at Madrid. In that of 1599 at Vienna. In that of 1610 at Lubec. In that of 1634 in Muscovy. In that of 1643 at Paris. In that of 1672 at Astracan; and a few years after at London; which was his second appearance in England. I say a few years afterwards, without pretending to determine in what year it was; because Calmet has omitted to give us the date of the Dutchess Hortensia’s letter. But this Lady, as appears from her life written by Monsieur St. Euvremont, and which is to be found in the fourth volume of his works, came to England in 1675, and died there in 1699, from whence it is plain, the second appearance of the Wandering Jew in that kingdom, must have been some time between those two æras.

XV. But can we give any credit to these accounts? I think none at all; and am inclined to disbelieve them; not so much because there is a great variation in the writers who speak of this person, in their relations of some circumstances concerning him, for this is not unfrequent in histories of established reputation, but because the most antient information we have of him, commences in the year 1229, which considering the antiquity of the fact, is without doubt a very recent date. How is it credible, that an event of such superlative magnitude, so extraordinary, and so singular in its kind, and so well calculated to enforce the truth of the Christian religion, and to defend it against the attacks of the Gentiles, should never have been known to, and never made mention of, by the fathers of the primitive ages? Even abstracted from its being a circumstance of such weight and importance in the case we have just mentioned, it would have reflected a very singular and brilliant lustre, on the glorious passion of our Saviour, and was on that account not only a worthy subject for the pens of the fathers to illustrate, but for those of the evangelists also.

XVI. But upon a supposition that this was a fable, it might be asked, what could have given rise to, or have been the origin of it? To this I should answer, that I never give myself much trouble about enquiring into the origin of fables, for that although they may have had their foundation in some true event, which fiction, or the want of rightly understanding, may have contributed so to disfigure, that no likeness of the real and true event may ever have been discernable in them; still fables have most commonly no other beginning, than in the invention of the deceiver who takes it into his head to fabricate them; and this is most frequent, when such an inventor has an interest in their passing for truth; which without doubt was the case, with respect to the instance we have been treating of. What pleasanter life, could an idle man of talents, who was cautious, and well versed in history, and who could speak eight or nine languages, lead, than that of wandering about the world, and pretending to be the Jew we have been speaking of? He might travel through all the kingdoms of Christendom, be well entertained, and might have a free access even to the thrones of princes, and be furnished at freecost, not only with every thing that was necessary for him, but even with the superfluities of life, by persons of all ranks and conditions, who might be induced to do all this, either from motives of curiosity, or piety. What greater stimulus than this was necessary, to excite the first man who practised this cheat, to feign such a story? and what other incentives did it require, to cause other vagrants, who were disposed to follow the same trade, to adopt the same pretence?

XVII. But if you are desirous of being informed of any thing more respecting this matter, than what may be deduced from the common origin of an infinite number of fables; I mean, if you are desirous of knowing any particular principle, from which it is probable this story of the Wandering Jew was derived; I will inform you, that it is not unlikely, it might have originated from a remote true fact, and from a modern fable, which was a disfiguration of that fact. The true fact, agreeable to scripture, tradition, and the authority of the holy fathers, is the preservation of the prophet Elias upon earth till the end of the world. Upon this true foundation, the Mahometans erected a fable, which Herbelot gives us a relation of, in his Bibliotheca Orientalis, page 932. See the word Zerib. and for which relation, he quotes the author of a book intitled Nighiaristan; under which title, there are many Persian books; and Herbelot informs us, that Nighiaristan in the Persian language, signifies a walk where people assemble to amuse themselves, or a place of public entertainment and diversion; but he does not tell us the particular book with this title, from whence he extracted the story, which is as follows.

XVIII. In the sixth year of the Hegira, just after the Arabs had taken the city of Holvan or Hulvan in Syria, three hundred cavaliers, who were returning together from that expedition, a little before night, encamped between two mountains. Their Chief, who was named Fadhilah, ordered, that they should conformable to the Mahometan rites, repeat the evening prayer, which begins with God is great; but they had no sooner pronounced these words with an audible voice, than they heard them repeated again from a quarter where no body appeared, nor could they devise how, or by whom they were repeated, and thought at first that the repetition was made by an echo; but upon finding that not only the words at the beginning of the prayer, but all the other sentences also, were repeated clearly and distinctly, they began to suspect, that this must be done by some person whom they could not perceive. Upon which, Fadhilah turning himself to the place from whence the repetition came, said in a loud voice, You who repeat our words, if you are of the order of the angels, God be with you; but if you are one of the other sort of spirits, I conjure you to depart; but if you are a man like myself come forth and let me see you, that I may have the satisfaction of surveying your person, and of conversing with you. When he had made an end of speaking these words, an old bald-headed man with a staff in his hand, who had much the air of a Dervis, came forth, and stood before him, and upon being asked his name by Fadhilah, said his name was Zerib. Bar. Elia. and that he had taken up his abode in that quarter by the order of Jesus Christ, who had appointed him to remain upon earth till the time of his second coming. Fadhilah then asked him, when that second coming would be? to which he replied, when men and women should mix together without shame or distinction, as if they were of one sex; when the abundance of provisions should not lower their price; when the poor, on account of the total extinction of charity, should find no body to administer to their distress; when the holy scriptures should be scoffed at and made a joke of, and the mysteries contained in them, be derided in ridiculous couplets; and when the temples dedicated to the true God, should be occupied by idols; then we might conclude, the final day of judgment was near at hand; and having said this, he disappeared.

XIX. There is involved in this story, a manifest inversion of that part of the sacred text, which speaks of the snatching away of Elias, in consequence of which, and its being corroborated by other parts of the holy scripture, many of both Christians and Jews think alike, with respect to the continuance of that prophet upon earth, until the end of the world. Elias was destined to this near nine hundred years before the coming of Christ; and this Mahometan account attributes this destination of him to have been made by our Saviour; which is a shocking anachronism. But we should not be surprized at this gross ignorance of the Mahometans; who, together with their false prophet, in their expositions of the scripture, confound times and persons, in the most extravagant manner that can be conceived. In the third sura or chapter of the alcoran, Mahomet identifies Mary the sister of Moses, and Mary the mother of Christ, as one and the same person; the first of whom was much more anterior to the last, than Elias was to Christ; and agreeable to the seventeenth sura or chapter, according to the exposition given of it by their famous commentator Gelaledin, the invasion of Palestine by the army in which Goliah was, was a punishment, for the Israelites having put to death Zacharias the father of John the Baptist, and the invasion of it by Nebuchadnezzar, was for their having killed the Baptist himself.

XX. At sight of these, and other monstrous inversions of both the old and new testament, which are very frequent in the alcoran, and the writings of the Mahometan commentators, I have been inclined to think, that it is probable some Mahometans, may have confounded John the Baptist with John the Evangelist, and may have made two distinct sayings of Christ, applicable to one and the same person, although one of them alludes to the Baptist, and the other to the Evangelist. Christ said of the Baptist (Matt. cap. ii.) Ipse est Elias, qui venturus est; and of the Evangelist (John cap. xxi.) Sic eum volo manere, donec veniam. Which words, the other disciples understood to amount to a decree of Christ’s, that he should continue alive to the final day of judgment. From this confounding different persons in one and the fame, might originate among the blind Mahometans, the fiction or belief, that Elias by the appointment of Christ, was to remain alive upon earth till the final day of judgment.

XXI. The persuasion then, that Elias was the person of whom our Saviour pronounced, Sic eum volo manere, donec veniam, might possibly give rise to the Mahometan Nighiaristan story, which upon being published, might put it into the head of some artful fellow, to assume the character of a Wandering Jew, and under that disguise, to apply this prediction delivered by Christ to himself.

XXII. But you will please to remember, that I observed before, there was no occasion to rummage disfigured histories to seek for the origin of numberless fables, as the imagination of man, is prodigiously fertile in bringing forth these productions, and is capable of creating the whole of a lie, without the auxiliary assistance of an atom of truth.

God keep you.

FINIS.

FOOTNOTES

ERRATA.